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IRANSLATED  BY  W  DAKlEL  DE  LEON 


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Franz  von  Sickingen 

A     Tragedy     in     Five      Acts 


Translated  from  the  Ger- 
man of  Ferdinand  Lassalle 

// 
By 

DANIEL    DE  LEON 


"The  highest  power  for  the  favorable  treatment 
of  a  subject  still  remains  with  poetry." — A.  von 
Humboldt. 


NEW     YORK     LABOR     NEWS     COMPANY 
New  York 


Copyright  fli9P^  by  the 
N»w  York  lyABOR  News  Co. 


TRANSLATOR'S  PREFACE 

It  is  not  the  grandeur  of  its  conception,  nor  its  mechanical  per- 
fection, nor  yet  the  sublimity  of  its  diction,  in  short,  it  is  not  its 
literary  merits  that  have  driven  me — for  driven  I  was — to  under- 
take the  translation  of  Lassalle's  **Franz  von  Sickingen.'*  In  all 
these  features  English  literature  is  abundantly  wealthy.  Happy  he 
who  has  the  taste  and  time  to  drink  at  that  rich  fount.  Translations 
into  English,  even  the  best,  would  be  a  wasteful  taking  of  coal  to 
Newcastle. 

Franz  von  Sickingen  was  a  distinguished  German  knight — distin- 
guished in  wealth,  in  character,  in  genius  and  in  arms — on  that  bor- 
derland of  the  world's  events  when  the  scroll  of  the  Middle  Ages  was 
being  rolled  up,  and  the  scroll  of  Modern  History  began  to  unroll. 
Sickingen's  stature  is  almost  legendary.  His  mind  and  heart  were 
fired  by  the  rays  of  the  rising  sun.  The  aim  he  set  to  himself,  and 
which  he  devised  jointly  with  Ulrich  von  Hutten,  had  he  succeeded, 
would  have  saved  Germany  the  devastating  Thirty  Years'  War,  unified 
the  nation  along  a  direct  and  less  thorny  path  than  it  was  forced  to 
travel,  and  materially  changed  the  history  of  Europe  for  the  better 
of  mankind.  He  failed.  He  had  a  purpose  firm,  but  the  rock  on  which 
he  suffered  shipwreck  was  to  fail  to  make  his  purpose  known.  Im- 
possible as  it  was  to  conceal  his  purpose  from  the  detection  of  the 
keen  instinct  of  the  usurpatory  elements  to  whom  his  success  meant 
destruction,  nothing  was  easier  than  its  concealment  from  the  masses, 
to  whom  his  success  meant  salvation.  Assailed  by  the  former,  who 
penetrated  his  designs,  and  left  in  the  lurch  by  the  latter,  to  whom  his 
designs  remained  a  secret,  Sickingen  went  down. 

In  these  our  own  days  of  transition,  when  individuality — before 
taking  the  imminent  leap  that  will  enable  it  to  bloom  as  never  before 
in  the  history  of  man — is  reduced  to  a  minimum;  when  the  modern 
machine-compelled  interdependence  of  man  upon  man — that  is  the 
earnest  of  civilized  manhood — ^has  for  its  present  effect  the  nipping  of 
self-reliance;  when  the  present  vastness  of  wealth  producible — that 
is  the  pledge  of  a  social  system  where,  untrammeled  by  the  brute's 
requirement  of  arduous  toil  for  physical  existence,  the  intellect  can 
freely  spread  its  wings — now  bears  the  ashen  fruit  of  tongue-tying  the 
intellectual  lest  the  physical  part  of  man  pay  the  penalty; — in  such 
days  as  these  no  tactical  maxim  of  conduct  has  the  value  of  that 
which  this  tragedy  of  Lassalle's  preaches,  whose  observance  it  enjoins, 


Nim^7ii^ 


iv.         .  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

and  whose  neglect  it  superbly  warns  against.  With  a  majestic  his- 
toric setting,  draped  in  poetic  elegance,  and  planted  upon  a  pedestal 
of  golden  maxims  that  converge  upwards,  and  illumine  the  principle 
itself,  "Franz  von  Sickingen"  raises  in  thrilling  yet  statuesque  solemn- 
ity the  principle — not  merely  to  have  a  purpose  firm,  but  also  to  dare 

to  MAKE  IT  KNOWN. 

So  demoralizing  on  the  will  are  the  economic  conditions  that  this 
generation  is  traversing,  and  so  vital  is  the  lesson  in  the  tragedy  of 
"Franz  von  Sickingen"  to  expedite  the  transition  from  the  present  to 
the  better  era  that  is  beckoning  our  race,  that  I  undertook  the  ardu- 
ous task  of  rendering  this  work  into  English,  undeterred  even  by 
the  additional  difficulty  of  preserving,  as  needs  had  to  be  preserved, 
the  metrical  garb — blank  verse,  or  unrhymed  meter,  of  standard  lines 
of  iambic  pentameter — in  which  the  original  is  decked.  On  this  score 
my  apprehensions  were  silenced  by  the  thought  that  the  best  part 
of  poetry  is  ever  translatable,  and  will  shine  even  through  an  im- 
perfect rendition,  while  the  substance  remains  in  unimpaired  lustre. 

To  "Franz  von  Sickingen"  pre-eminently  applies  what,  on  the 
occasion  of  other  translations  I  have  said  before  regarding  other  works 
— ^this  work  deserves  the  broader  field  of  the  Socialist  or  Labor  Move- 
ments of  the  English-speaking  world,  hereby  afforded  to  it;  and  in- 
versely, the  Socialist  or  Labor  Movements  of  the  English-speaking 
world,  entitled  to  the  best,  and  none  too  good,  that  the  Movement 
produces  in  other  languages,  can  not  but  profit  by  the  work,  hereby 
rendered  accessible  to  them. 

New  York,  April  9,  1904.  DANIEL  DE  LEON. 


DRAMATIS  PERSONAE 

Emperob  Charles  V. 

Elector  Ludwig,  of  the  Palatinate,  Palsgrave  and  Duke. 

Richard  von  Greifenklau,  Archbishop  and  Elector  of  Treves. 

Philip,  Landgrave  of  Hesse. 

The  Papal  Cardinal-Legate. 

Hans  Renner,  Imperial  Minister  and  Councilor. 

Franz  von  Sickingen. 

Ulrich  von  Hutten. 

Count  William  von  Furstenbebq. 

Count  Eitelfritz  von  Zollern. 

Fro  WIN  VON  Hutten,  Grandmaster  and  Chamberlain  of  Elector- 
Archbishop  Albrecht  of  Mayence. 

Knight  Philip  von  Rudesheim. 

Knight  Henrich  von  Schwarzenberg. 

Knight  William  von  Waldeck. 

Knight  Henry  von  Dhan. 

Knight  Philip  von  Dalberg.  pw^^o  ^^^  f^n^^^^c. 

Knight  Wolf  von  Turckheim.  }  ^"^'"^^f  ^tfJnlS 

Knight  von  Benningen.  ^  ^^  S^cJc^ngen. 

Knight  von  Falkenstein. 

Knight  Harmuth  von  Kronberg. 

Knight  Fritz  von  Sombreff. 

Knight  Hilchen  Lorch. 

Oekolampadius,  Lutheran  Chaplain  in  Sicking en^s  household. 

Balthasar  Sloer,  Sickingen's  private  secretary  and  confidential  man. 

Captain  Joerg  von  Augsburg^,  Sickingen's  master  of  ordnance. 

Jos  Fritz,  a  peasant  agitator. 

Marie,  Sickingen's  daughter. 

Count  Solms. 

Kurt,  an  attendant  of  Sickingen. 

The  Private  Secretary  of  the  Palsgrave  Ludung. 

A  Knight  of  Treves. 

A  Captain  of  the  Treves  Lancers. 

An  Imperial  Herald. 

A  Herald  in  th§  service  of  Sickingen. 

An  Inn-keeper. 

An  Armor-bearer. 

A  Physician. 

Two  Messengers. 

Knights,  lancers,  monks,  attendants,  peasants,  townsmen  and  wo- 
men of  Treves. 

(The  scene  takes  place  during  the  years  1520  and  1523.) 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/franzvonsickingeOOtranrich 


ACT  I. 

Scene  I. — A.  room  in  the  castle  of  Ehemhurg. 

Marte,  folding  awaj/  some  needle-work,  at  which  she  was  engaged. 
Balthasab,  a  man  about  sixty  years  of  age,  completely  grey,  but 
still  in  full  vigor,  and  of  clear,  strong  voice. 

MoATie.     I  know  not,  Balthasar,  my  father  is. 

For  some  time  since,  not  cheerful  as  before. 

He,  oft'ner  than  his  wont,  secludes  himself. 

And  then,  when  letters  come,  I  find 

Most  oft  his  brow  with  brooding  clouds  bedimmed. 
Balth.    The  consequence  it  is — ^you'll  pardon  me. 

My  habit  ever  was  to  speak  straight  out — 

The  consequence  it  is  of  his — own  folly. 
Marie.    How,  Balthasar!  Folly  and  my  father? 

And  is  it  right  to  say  so  to  his  daughter? 
Balth.     My  gracious  maid,  a  full-fledged  lass, 

You  may  well  stand  a  word  plain  said. 

Besides,  you  know  full  well,  though  you  his  daughter  be, 

You  love  not  Franz  more  warmly  than  myself. 
Marie.     {Reaching  out  her  hand  to  him  with  tenderness.) 

And  that  is  true!     You  are  a  faithful  servitor. 
Balth.    A  faithful  servitor!  What  wonder! 

I  could  not  to  myself  be  true 

Were  I  aught  else  to  him.    When  I  was  persecuted; 

When,  lustful  after  power,  the  magistrate  of  Worms 

High-handed   drove  me  out;    'gainst   law  and   right 

Dispoiled  jne  of  all  my  goods,  and  into  a  beggar  turned  me; — 

Who  was  it  that  my  quarrel  then  took  up! 

In  vain  I  cried  to  Emp'ror  and  to  realm! 

The  mighty  city  balked  me  everywhere: 

The  Emp'ror  needed  it,  and  none  dared  venture 

To  break  with  it  on  my  account. 

Your  father,  then,  I  turned  to  in  distress. 

My  faith!    That  was  a  counselor  at  law! 

Another  such  the  land  does  not  contain! 

He  took  me  up,  cross-questioned  my  behavior. 


i^V  :  J^KANZ  TON  SICKINGEK. 

And  when  he  saw  that  violence  had  been  done  me. 

He  simply  said  these  words:    "Well,  Balthasar, 

Sith  not  the  pen  may  stead,  be  it  then  the  sword!" 

And  as  Worms  laughed  at  his  petition, 

Refusing  justice  to  my  suit. 

And  arrogantly  threatened  him 

With  bans  from  Emp'ror  and  from  realm, 

He  took  about  ten  thousand  first-class  reasons — 

Pikes,  I  mean,  my  gracious  maid — and  drew 

With  them  before  the  town  of  Worms,  where  he 

Began  to  "demonstrate"  and  to  "distinguish." 

He  knoweth  how! 

So  well  did  he  "distinguish"  that  the  walls  receded. 

Nor  Kaiser's  anger,  nor  the  danger  himself  ran 

Could  frighten  him  to  drop  my  cause. 

A  scamp  were  he  who  such  a  favor  could  forget. 
Marie.    You  are  a  trusty,  faithful  soul! 
Balth.    I  thank  you,  gentle  maid! — ^And  yet,  for  all 

These  reasons  and  so  very  many  more. 

That  to  the  knight  bind  fast  my  steady  love. 

My  love  does  not  my  old  eyes  blind 

To  what  I  still  must  call — ^his  folly. 
Marie.     [Sportively.l    Oh,  now,  I  see  you  come  back  to  th*  assault; 

There's  something,  master,  sits  upon  your  heart. 

My  father  must,  again,  have  had  his  way.    [With  comic  pathos.} 

Well,  then,  before  our  throne  set  forth  your  plea. 

We  ready  are  to  hear  you,  faithful  subject ! 

Right  will  be  done  to  you! — On  that 

Take  our  imperial  word. 
Balth.  You  badger. 

Wanton  girl!   Yet  all  the  same. 

Old  Balthasar  is  quite  in  earnest. — ^You  know,  my  noble  maid. 

That  Francis,  France's  king,  has  on  your  father 

Bestowed  the  marshal's  staff? 
Marie.    [Continuing  her  assumed  rdle  of  grandeur.} 

We  know  as  much. 
Balth.    And  do  you  know  the  manner  how? 
Marie     [As  above  hut  somewhat  embarrassed.}       No — Yes — ^partly I 

The  cares  of  State  have  made  us 

Almost  forget  the  incident. 
Balth.     [Aside.]    The  charming  monkey!     Truly, 

My  grey  hairs  notwithstanding,  I  could  kiss  her. 


1PIIAK2  VON  SICKINGEN. 

[To  Marie.}    Now,  hearken  unto  me: 
It  was,  then,  when  your  father  Lorraine's  duke 
. — The  same  who  since  became  our  ally — 
O'ercome  by  arms; — when,  thereupon, 
For  reasons  highly  just  he  warred  'gainst  Metz, 
And  others  there,  like  I  myself  in  Worms, 
Having  been  wronged,  and  having  turned  to  him, 
And  he  with  twenty  thousand  men 
On  foot  and  twenty  thousand  horse^ 
Sat  down  before  the  place,  and  pressed  it  close. 
So  close  that  the  besieged  patricians  were 
Constrained  to  apologize  and  make  redress — 
'Twas  then  that  series  of  prowesses  drew 
King  Francis'  eyes  upon  the  knight,  who,  single-handed, 
Without  ado,  could  muster  up  such  armies 
As  not  himself  the  Emp'ror  could  bring  up 
Without  a  mighty  effort,  and  oft  failed 
To  fetch  a-field.    He  sought 
To  win  him  o'er;  invited  to  Sedan 
The  knight;  sent  thither  Count  La  Mark,  also 
The  Duke  of  Bouillon  and  the  Marquis  of  Fleurang«s 
To  lead  him  through  half  France 
With  honors  great,  in  princely  style. 
At  last  they  took  him  to  Amboise, 
Where  then  King  Francis  held  his  court. 
And,  then,  indeed,  the  wild  carouse  began! 
The  King  behaved  as  tho',  without  the  knight, 
He  could  not  live:  and  at  full  court. 
Himself  a  golden  chain  around  his  neck  he  placed, 
And  to  the  knight  the  marshal's  staff  delivered 
With  his  own  hands!   The  grandees  were  constrained 
To  act  as  if,  for  very  love,  they  would  devour  him. 
Nor  was  the^r  wonder  slight 
At  sight  of  Franz's  cavalcade — 
Behind  him  rode  for  retinue, 
The  choicest  noblemen  of  Germany, 
The  realm's  most  mighty  Coimts 
Far  more  illustrious  than  himself. 
Of  houses  far  more  ancient — him  they  followM, 
And  built  his  noble  guard. 
Marie.    Us  seems  Sir  plaintiff,  that  as  yet 
'There  is  no  cause  for  a  complaint. 


4  J'RANZ  VON  SICKINGEI?. 

Balth.    Tis  but  the  introduction! 

Marie.  Please  drop  the  introduction, 

And  to  the  subject!    The  process  lasts  too  long. 

Else  from  the  court  I  must  dismiss  you! 

[Laughing.'\    And  I  have  yet  to  see  to  dinner. 
Balth.    To  that  our  Bridget  will  attend.    Young  lady. 

You  would  not  hold  such  language,  had  you  seen 

The  brilliant  ladies  at  the  French  King's  court. 
Marie.    [Quickly.]    Indeed?    They're  handsome,  do  you  think? 
Balth.  What  houris,  by  my  soul! 

And  talk  they  did  that  our  mouths 

Ran  water.    They  all 

Were  wonderfully  drilled,  and  constituted 

The  heavy  ordnance  wherewith  King  Francis 

The  steel-cased  knight  bombarded; — 

For,  sweet  maid,  our  neighbors  fashion  'tis 

That  women  stand,  no  less  than  men. 

At  service  of  their  King!  But  all  that  was. 

As  with  me  now,  so  also  with  King  Francis, 

The  introduction  only.    Kaiser  Max  was  old. 

His  tribute  soon  to  Nature  would  be  due, 

That  was  the  point  objective.     King  Francis  speculated 

Upon  our  crown  imperial.    Aye,  already 

The  Palatine  and  him  of  Treves  he  had. 

But  well  he  knew  that  Franz,  your  father, 

Tho'  not  the  peer  of  any  of  the  sev'n,  who. 

At  Frankfort,  hold  the  privilege. 

Yet  when  it  comes  t'elect,  would  cast  a  vote 

As  strong  as  all  the  seven  put  together. 

Accordingly,  when  Kaiser  Max  his  eyes  did  close. 

King  Francis  sent  a  special  envoy  here 

To  Franz,  the  knight. — You  surely  could  not 

That  ornate  Frenchman  from  your  mind  have  lost 

Who  then  arrived  at  our  Ebernburg? 
Marie.    [LoAighing.]    Oh!  whether  I  recall  him!    Velvety 

And  silken,  gold-brocaded  was  his  jacket. 

I  would  have  feared  the  man  to  touch 

For  fear  I  spoiled  his  gear.    Indeed, 

He  was,  of  men,  the  handsomest  I  ever  saw. 

If  he  but  held  his  tongue!     When  that  he  wagged^ 

ITien  all  was  o'er!     Such  compliments  he  paid  me — 

More  pointed  far  than  were  his  pointed  shoes. 


FKANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

So  sugar-sweet,  it  was  no  easy  thing 

For  me  to  keep  from  laughing  outright  in  his  face. 

Poor  man,  to  bring  his  whole  supply 

Of  monkey-tricks  from  Paris 

And  waste  them  here!    I  gladly  would 

Have  packed  up  for  him  all  his  costly  sweets. 

And  kept  him  free  from  loss  with  us! 
Balth.    Although  the  man  displeased  you,  miss, — 

He  was  of  mighty  lineage  and  distinguished  house. 

What  mattered  what  he  spoke — 

To  please  you  he'd  have  held  his  tongue. 

You  two  a  stately  couple  would  have  made. 
Marie.    Oh,  Balthasar!     On  that  you're  inexpert. 

With  us,  the  women,  so  the  saying  goes. 

The  soul  sits  in  the  eye.    May  be.    I  do  not  know 

And  yet  I  know* — 

It  sits  upon  the  tongue  of  man. 
Balth.  Indeed? 

Have  you  your  studies  made  in  that? 

Perchance  experience  gathered  on  the  head? 
Marie.    [Blushing.]    Oh,  Balthasar,  how  you  run  on! 

I  know  you  understand  me  well  enough. 

But  force  yourself  to  misinterpret  me. 

The  man,  I  mean,  whom  noble  thoughts  possess, 

Makes  himself,  by  his  own  words  known  to  us. 

The  howy  as  well  and  more  than  what  he  says. 

Reveals  to  us  the  inner  soul  of  man. 
Balth.  Hm!    Hml 

I  see! — ^At  Albrecht's,  the  Elector's  Mayence  court, 

Where  you  a  while  sojourned. 

Where  arts  and  sciences  bloom  luxuriantly, 

Oh,  there,  I  see,  the  thoughts  of  these  new  times 

Have  made  *heir  lodgment  in  your  head.    But  yesterday, 

A  German  knight  knew  but  about  stout  blows: 

They  now  must  also  have  stout  minds. — Well,  well, 

I  blame,  you  not,  young  lady.    Myself, 

Am  heart'ly  pleased  to  see  the  change! 

And  fitting  'tis  that  you. 

The  daughter  of  Franz  Sickingen — 

The  but  too  ready  shield  of  the  new  stream — 

Should  think  like  that.    Nor  is  it  strange 

Your  father's  standard  should  inspirit  yov 


If  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

For  thought  and  speech  are  equal  great  with  him.. 

The  Marquis  of  Fleuranges,  acquainted  with 

The  leading  men  of  Germany  as  well  as  France, 

Where  elegance  of  speech  is  sedulously  nursed. 

Said  once  to  me,  that  never^  all  his  life. 

So  powerful  an  orator  he  met. 

Indeed,  the  heat  of  inspiration  on. 

There  flows  a  stream  of  lava  from  his  tongue. 

And  carries  all  along  with  mighty  rush. 

But,  otherwise,  he's  rather  taciturn. 

Keeps  house,  let's  others  do  the  talking. 
Marie.     So,  Balthasar^  I  far  prefer  to  see  you 

When  you  my  father  praise,  than  when 

You  scold  at  him. 
Balth.  Quite  so,  and  thereby 

I  am  reminded  to  resume  the  thread  of  my 

Complaint.    Well,  then,  the  Frenchman,  who 

Such  sweet  civilities  bestowed  on  you — 

To  Franz  himself  brought  others  still  more  sweet, 

From  France's  King,  and  much  more  solid  ones  withal. 

Full  thirty  thousand  kronen-thalers  cash. 

Besides,  for  life  as  yearly  revenue. 

Eight  thousand  thalers  more. 

Well  patented  on  land  and  men,  he  proffered, 

If  Franz  but  promised  faithful  to  support 

Him  at  the  Imperial  vote  then  pending; — 

And  should  he  still  want  more,  he  sent  him  word. 

He  would  not  haggle  on  the  diff'rence. 

But  Franz,  misguided  by  his  foolish 

Adherence  to  King  Charles,  as  Max's  kin. 

Rejected  flatly  ev'ry  offer — 

And  wrote  upon  the  spot 

To  Charles,  the  proffered  trade  to  apprize  him  of! 
Marie     [Impetuously.]     Fie! — Shame  upon  you,  my  old  Sloer, 

Oh,  never  from  you,  had  I  thought  to  hear 

My  father  blamed  for  his  declining 

To  sell  the  crown  abroad,  and  then,  at  that, 

p-  dirty  gold! 

jj  ^  Do  not  bite  me,  noble  girl— 

jfJ^\  v^'s  blood  wells  up  in  this  young  child— 
11  ne  Dut    ^^^  ^^^^  J  ^^^j^  ^j^^g  j^.^^  f^j. 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

The  young  King  Charles  himself  is  none  of  ours. 

Per  contra,  did  King  Francis  at  the  time 

Through  learned  men  prove  everywhere 

He  was  a  German,  tracing  his  descent 

From  th'  Emp'ror  Charles  the  Great. — 'Tis  odd! 

No  sooner  is  th'  Imperial  crown  at  stake, 

When  "Germans"  all  proclaim  themselves.     But  when 

The  German  realm  is  in  distress — then 

The  kinship  none  recalls! 

Now,  then,  admit  yourself  the  difference  null 

There  is  between  King  Francis  and  King  Charles — 

They're  aliens  both.    The  only  diff'rence  lies 

In  ancestors  a  brace. 

That  difference,  meseems,  the  many  thalers 

Could  amply  have  planed  down. 

Still — 'tis  not  that  I'm  driving  at. 

So  slight  a  foolish  act  your  father 

Soon  I'd  pardon  for.  Broad  enough  are  his  estates; 

Needs  not  King  Francis*  coin.    And,  in  the  end, 

'Twould  be  the  same  to  him  whether  the  German  throne 

Was  filled  with  Francis  or  with  Charles.    All  one ! 

No,  young  lady,  no;  a  far  more  foolish  act 

Is  that  I  blame  him  for. — 

To  slip  by  he  allowed  a  juncture,  that 

Perhaps,  may  never  more  return  again. 

If  he  alert  had  been  to  his  advantage. 

He  would  quite  otherwise  have  done! 
Marie.    What  was  it  then? 
Balth.  Young  lady,  this  it  was: 

Perchance  I  yet  may  see  the  hour  for 

Amends — perchance  it  may  not  strike 

Until  old  Ba,lthasar  is  dead! 

If  so,  I  bind  it  now  upon  your  soul 

To  stir  him  up.     Some  day,  perhaps,  your  lead 

He'll  follow  readier  than  Balthasar's  to-day. 

Athwart  the  wrappage  of  your  mirthful  mind 

The  heroine's  soul  I  long  have  spied, 

That  swift  is  seized  by  great  designs, 

And  steadily  pursues  them — ^will  develop  further! 
Marie.     [With  comic  pathos.] 

Upon  that  heroine's  soul,  as  yet  to  me 

Unknown,  detected  by  yourself, 


S  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

I  swear — 

What  you  demand,  fulfilled  shall  be! 

With  all  the  easier  conscience. 

Seeing — that  I  grasp  not  your  intent. 
Balth.     Now,  listen!— When,  at  last,  the  time  had  come 

For  balloting  at  Frankfort,  and 

The  choice  for  Emp'ror  trembled  in  the  scales. 

Your  father  gathered — in  the  interest  of  Charles, 

And  pressure  on  the  pious  realm's  Electors — 

An  army  of  more  than  twenty  thousand  men; 

Marched  with  it  upon  Frankfort;  and 

He  comfortably  sat  him  down  before 

The  walls.    It  was  a  pleasure  to  behold 

How  Franz  the  whip-hand  seized  and  held. 

E*en  our  Elector  Palatine — the  only  Prince, 

Besides  th*  Elector  of  Mayence,  who  loves  the  knight — 

Protested,  but  in  vain. 

Now,  see!     Your  father  held  the  dice  in  hand. 

All  to  his  fiddle  then  were  forced  to  dance. 

They  lay  there  at  his  will  and  mercy! 

Both  nation  and  nobility  were  with  him — 

Indeed,  it  had  been  for  their  best — and  at 

His  own  disposal  stood  an  army  ready 

To  be  torn  to  pieces  for  his  sake!    Oh, 

How  I  vainly  argued  then !     Th'  Electors, 

Aye,  all  the  seven,  had  he  in  a  bunch — 
[Maying  the  motion.} 

Flap— 
Franz.     [Behind  the  scenes.]   Feed  well  the  nag; 

He  earned  his  fodder,  well  to-day! 
Marie.    [Jumping  up.]   Keep  still,  my  father! 

Scene  II. 

The  former;  Fbanz  von  Sickingen. 

Franss.     [Stepping  in  briskly.]    Good  morning,  child! 

Marie.    [Running  to  him  and  falling  on  his  neck.]      Beloved  father! 

Franz.    [Contemplating  her.]    You  charmer!    Lovely  child!  Give  me 

A  kiss,  you  sprightly  thing! 
Marie.    [Kissing  him.]  And  gladly,  too!     You  seem 

To-day  in  happy  mood.     How  glad  that  makes  me! 
Franz.     I  had  a  brisk  and  early  canter  o'er  the  fields; — 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

The  wind  blew  fresh  upon  me. 

Good  morning,  Balthasar! 
Balth.  I  thank  your  honor! 

Franz.     I  heard  you  stiffly  perorating. 

No  doubt  you  did  yourself  full  justice,  and 

As  usual,  laid  it  hard  upon  me. 
Marie.     [Roguishly.]     On  that  head,  father,  not  this  once 

Could  you  with  justice  chide  him.    We 

Were  playing  court,  Sir.  Balthasar 

Accused  you,  and  I — I  was  the  Kaiser! 
Franz.     [Laughing.]     My  old  man,  Sloer,  of  that  tribunal, 

Before  which  you  as  my  accuser  stand, 

'Twere  hard  that  evil  came  to  me. 
Balth.    You  err.  Sir!     Oh!  if  the  tribunal  I  but  knew 

That  you  to  alter  had  the  pow'r — full  soon 

You'd  see  me  your  accuser!     I  was  just  engaged 

In  strongest  strokes  to  tax  you 

With  all  the  seven  mortal  sins,  that  I 

So  oft,  have  vainly  combated  in  you — 

MisplacM  magnanimity;  excessive 

And  idle  abnegation,  where,  hand  in  hand, 

Your  own  advantage  and  the  common  weal 

Keep  step;  confiding,  as  though  others,  like  you  were;— 

Besides,  what  all  the  sins  may  be,  that,  yet 

Some  time  may  be  avenged  upon  you. 
Franz.    Do  I  interpret  right?    Why,  Balthasar, 

It  looks  to  me,  with  yonder  maid  you  have 

Been  chopping  politics.     Art  not  ashamed. 

You  grey-head  ? 
Balth.  Not  at  all !   There's  Margaret  of  Parma 

She  is  a  regent,  truly  as  wise,  Sir, 

As  any  Prince  in  Europe,  now  alive. 

Whence  had  she  learned  as  much. 

Had  it  not  timely  in  her  been  drilled? 
Franz.    Yes,  Balthasar,  I  see  it  clearly — with  you 

No  man  will  ever  be  found  right. 

I  know,  a  councilor  imperial 

Was  lost  in  you. 
Balth.     [With  emphasis.]     Yours,  Sir,  the  fault 

If  none  as  yet  I  am. 
Franz.  Oho!  I  see 

You  still  are  aiming  high. 


10  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

[Sits  doton.}    To  something  else! 

The  learned,  worthy  Reuchlin, 

Of  science  the  restorer. 

Has  written  me  a  second  letter. 

The  parsons  of  Cologne,  that  pack  in  black, 

Those  tonsured  panters  after  burning  pyres. 

They  still  are  bent  upon  molesting  him. 

They  annoy  and  tantalize  the  man;  refuse 

To  indemnify  him  for  the  process'  costs ; 

Prefer  to  appeal  to  Rome;  and  contemplate 

To  see  him  yet  condemned  a  heretic! — 

Now,  write  to  the  provincial  of  Cologne: 

Franciscus  humbly  sends  his  greetings. 

Is  at  his  patience's  end — insists  on  peace. 

I  also  wish  you  write  them  clearly — 

Tell  them  I  hope  at  last  they  hear, 

If  not,  I'll  have  to  use  my  speaking  trumpets^ 

You  know — 
Balth.     I  understand  you.  Sir;  I  understand  you  fully! 

I  know  your  speaking  trumpets!     Quite  unique! 

That  man  were  deaf  who  could  not  hear  them! 

Could  name  them  all  to  you.    First,  the  Nightingale ; 

The  Rooster  next,  and  then  whatever  names  the  rest  may  have— 

The  matchless  culver  ins,  the  mortars  and  the  falconets. 

The  carronades,  that  master  Stephan 

Has  elegantly  cast  for  you  in  Frankfort.    Heard 

You  speak  with  them  in  front  of  Worms  and  Darmstadt — 

Philip  of  Hesse  still  feels  at  ev'ry  limb 

The  language  that  so  plain  you  held  to  him 

That  day! 
Franz,    Now,  write  that  I  demand,  within  a  month. 

To  see  the  matter  settled,  once  for  all ; 

And  if  not  promptly  done  to  date. 

Before  Cologne  acquaintance  will  they  make 

With  Franz  of  Sickingen. 
Balth.  Sir,  'twere  hard 

For  you  to  give  me  a  pleasanter  commission — 

I  only  wish  the  tonsured  pates  gave  it 

No  heed.    How  soon  would  they 

Not  to  their  patron  Saint, 

The  holy  Dominicus,  occasion  have  to  pray! 
Yet — that's  a  pleasure  that  I  must  forego. 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  11 

They  know  you  but  too  well. 
Franz.  And  now,  I  must 

A  word  speak  with  this  lassie. 

[While  he  turns  to  Marie  a  servant  enters.} 
Serv.    A  knight  is  at  the  gate,  and  asks  admission; 

Ulrich  von  Hutten  his  name  he  gives. 
Franz.    [With  joy.]  What!     Ulrich? 

Marie.     [Blttshing.]    Ulrich  von  Hutten! 
Franz.  A  happy  day!    Ne'er  rode 

A  better  guest  into  the  Ebernburg! 

[To  Marie.}    The  best  man  of  all  Germany 

You're  now  about  to  see! 

[To  the  servant  who  has  remained  standing.} 

What,  fellow,  stand  you  there  still? 

Make  haste,  take  wings. 

And  lead  him  quickly  hither!     [Eacit  servant.} 

[Again  turning  to  Marie.}   My  child. 

When  this  our  German  land  in  deepest  sleep  still  lay. 

When  still  no  breast  to  breathe  did  dare* 

'Twas  he  who  first  the  mighty  impulse  gave. 

Ere  Luther  did,  did  he  the  word  pronounce, 

And  bravely  flung  his  gaimtlet  at  the  face 

Of  mighty  Rome,  and  in  the  impulse  of  his  heart 

Declared  war  on  usurpation.    He 

Alone! — ^And  with  his  proud  device,  "I've  dared  it!" 

Himself  a  freeman  spoke.    "Wake  up,  wake  up 

Thou  noble  freedom!"  was  the  fervid  cry 

That  bold  he  sounded  through  the  land's  confines 

With  might,  throughout  the  fettered  nation. 

The  hearts  of  men  within  their  breasts  inflaming. 

Like  none  a  wak'ner  of  the  people! 

Note  well  the  man,  my  child,  that  you 

May  learn  to  know  how  great  men  look. 
Marie.     [Embarrassed.}  Oh,  Sir, 

I  know  him — Met  him  at  the  court  of  Albrecht — 

For  four  months  there  I  dwelt. 

[Hesitating.} .  When,  at  the  tourney  that  th'  Elector  gave. 

The  knight  my  colors  wore. 
Franz.  Indeed? 

And  did,  perchance,  he  look  you  in  the  face  ? 
Marie.    I  know  not  that.    It  almost  seemed  to  me 

'Twas  rather,  father,  in  honor  of  yourself — ^you  see, 


12  FKANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

Nowise  like  th'  other  gentlemen  was  he. 

Forever  at  the  heels  of  us  the  girls; 

And,  on  the  whole,  he  spent  but  little  time 

With  us. 
Franz.  I  dare  say ! 

Quite  other  thoughts  engage  his  mind! 
Marie.    {Quickly.^  But  when  he  was  with  us 

He  ever  markedly  distinguished  me. 
Fram^z.    Indeed  ?    You're  an  important  personage ! 

I  fancy  he  has  made  you  proud. 

Scene  III. 
The  former;  Uleich  von  Hutten. 

Ulrich.  [Stepping  in  briskly  and  with  outstretched  arms  towards 

Franz.]    Franz  von  Sickingen! 
Franz.     {Likewise  hastening  towards  him.]    Ulrich  von  Hutten! 

They  embrace  warmly. 
Ulrich.     [Noticing  Marie,  takes  a  step  towards  her  and  bows.} 

Accept,  young  lady,  my  respectful  greeting, 

How  happy  it  makes  me  once  again  to  see  you! 
Marie.    Sir  knight,  my  thanks ;  in  truth,  I'm  also  glad. 
Franz.    I  hear  you  know  each  other  from  Mayence. 
Ulrich.  Yes;  at 

The  tourney  I  wore  the  lady's  colors^ 

Although  with  less  of  luck  than  pleasure. 

My  own  was  holding  well ;  already  had  my  lance 

Unhorsed  some  three  or  four  tall  knights, 

When  all  along  there  came  a  cyclop — 

From  Brandenburg,  sent  by  th'  Elector's  brother — 

Square-built  and  like  a  bull  in  strength. 

He  roughly  brought  me  down. 
Marie.     Sir  knight,  believe  me^  it  pained  me  to  the  heart 

To  see  you  drop,  and  all  on  my  account. 

I  feared  the  heavy  fall  had  done  you  hurt. 

Myself  I  could  have  pardoned  nevermore! 
VWich.     [Smiles  and  bows.] 

Not  that  it  was  that  pained  me,  noble  maid. 

The  trifling  fall  was  quickly  shaken  off; 

But  that  your  colors,  as  they  would  deserve. 

To  rictory  I  failed  to  carry; — that 

Perchance,  Iliyself  in  poorer  light  might  stand 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  13 

In  your  esteem,  than  I  would  wish — 

That  pained  me  much. 
Marie.     [With  warmth  though  bashfully.} 

How  can  you  hold  such  language! 

Who's  he  who  ne'er  in  arms  has  found  his  master  ? 

And  is  the  rough-rude  sword  the  only  weapon 

That  us  with  wonder  fills  us  for  man? 

You  wield  still  other  far  more  mighty  weapons, 

And  fame  proclaims  it  that  your  pen  of  fire 

In  Christendom's  broad  field  finds  not  its  equal! 

That  brilliant  falchion  of  the  mind — 

You  wield  it  in  humanity's  great  service. 

For  freedom  and  for  light,  for  all  that's  noble; 

For  virtuous  aims  you  wield  it  like  a  hero 

With  a  triumphant  power. 

[Deeply  blushing,  as  if  having  allowed  herself  to  he 
carried  too  fa/r,  steps  back.] 
Franz.    [Smiling  to  Balthasar.]    Now,  list,  Balthasar,  to  that, 

What  all  the  minx  can  say! 

[Stepping  towards  Marie  and  Ulrich.] 

A  great  word  have  you  uttered,  child  of  mine. 
[LoA/ing  his  hand  on  Ulrich.] 

Upon  this  pen  the  nation's  hope  does  rest ; 

None  better^i  stronger,  in  all  Christendom! 

And  yet  is  that  not  yet  the  best  about  him. 

Mayhap  some  day  as  mighty  pens  may  flourish. 

Mayhap  still  mightier — but  never 

A  more  undaunted  valor,  or  a  nobler  mind. 
Balth.    [Stepping  towards  Ulrich.] 

Accept,  Sir  knight,  my  homage  too. 

From  one  it  comes  whose  aged  heart 

You  oft  have  set  aglow. 
Ulrich.     [Shaking  his  hand.] 

Your  name  is  Sloer?    Who  should  not  know  you! 

Abroad  your  reputation  reaches  far. 

The  praises  of  your  diplomatic  skill. 

'Tis  said  of  Sickingen's  arm'd  forces 

You  are  at  least  one  half. 
Franz.    And  rightly  too.    If  but  he  did  not  ever 

So  high  persist  in  soaring,  an  abler  head 

It  were  quite  hard  to  find. — But,  Sir  knight. 

You  come,  if  I  am  right,  from  Brussels, 


H  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

From  the  Emp'ror's  brilliant  court? 
Ulrich.     [Sighing.}  I  do! 

Wrwnz.    Enlighten  us!    How  did  you  find  our  Charles? 
Ulrich.    [Turning  his  head  OAva^/.] 

I  trust  no  prince  hereafter. 
Balth.    [To  Franz.}  There's  your  Charles! 

As  I  foresaw — 
Fra/n».    [Interrupting  him.}    Oh,  silence,  Balthasar! 

Pray,  triumph  not. — If  so  it  be — 

'Tis  all  the  worse  for  me,  as  well  as  him. 

[To  Ulrich.}    Report  whate'er  it  be.    I  should  be  posted  well. 
Ulrich.    Sir^  short  is  my  report.   I  moved  to  Brussels. 

Intending  with  the  newly  chosen  Emp'ror 

For  the  new  doctrine  and  the  cause  endear'd 

Of  German  freedom  diligent  to  labor. 

In  that  young  stripling's  soul  I  hoped  to  kindle 

Enthusiasm,  that  purest  heritage  of  youth. 

Into  a  mighty  thirst  for  noble  deeds^ 

Whose  lusty  breath  and  travail  should  give  birth 

To  a  rejuvenated,  brighter  world. — 

You  know  what  great  hopes  all  of  us. 

All  Germany,  and  most  of  all  yourself. 

Did  pin  upon  that  young  man's  head — 

[He  stops  short.    Sickingen  motions  him  to  proceed.} 

Now  watch! 
[With  half  concealed  disgust.} 

Not  e'en  an  audience  could  I  gain 

With  the  Emp'ror,  or  his  brother. 

The  Archduke  Ferdinand! 
Franz.  A  sinister  beginning! 

Ulrich.    By  Romanists  and  courtesans. 

The  creatures  of  the  Pope,  found  I 

The  Emp'ror's  ears  besieged.    Uncanny 

And  as  if  moved  with  glee  malicious,  bom 

Of  secret  joy  at  my  discomfiture. 

Sir,  scoffingly  on  me  the  en'my's  eye 

Regaled  itself.    But  soon  it  all  came  out! 

Our  friends  flocked  anxiously  to  warn  me 

Pope  Leo,  thus  it  ran,  had  ordered  I  be  seized 

And,  bound,  delivered  up  to  him  in  Rome. 

The  emp'ror's  and  the  Princes'  temp'ral  arm 

He  all  had  summoned  to  fulfill  his  will. 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  H 

Franz.     [Mechanically  grasping  his  sword.] 

Is't  possible!    They  mean  to  go  so  far! 

And  do  they  think  we  would  submit  ?    And  you, 

Sir  knight,  who  bravely  'gainst  oppression  rose. 

And,  for  the  sake  of  your  own  people's  cause, 

A  spokesman  of  the  nation,  you  shall  now 

Yourself  be  subjugated  to  such  dire 

Such  ignominious  treatment! — Never! 
TJlrich.  Conscious  of  no  guilty 

Upon  my  pure  cause  firmly  resting, 

At  first  I  laughed  at  all  the  warnings.    But 

The  signs  came  thick;  our  friends'  anxiety 

Increased,  their  importunity  apace.  ^ 

The  Emp'ror,  I  was  told,  was  being  pressed! 

Till,  finally,  from  certain  sources,  I 

Was  told  I  had  not  e'en  a  day  to  lose ! 

Nor  was  that  all,  Sir  knight,  I  learned,  aye,  learned 

That  if  the  Emp'ror  seemed  to  waver 

'Twas  all  the  surer  sign  of  death  to  me. 

The  hatred  of  the  Komanists  had  fixed 

With  poison  or  with  sword  I  should  be  slain. 

Regardless  of  the  means^  I  was  to  be 

Wiped  off  the  earth  in  shortest  order! 

I  had  to  flee  in  haste!     Not  one  more  hour 

My  life  was  thought  to  be  in  safety. 
Marie.  [Who,  like  Balthasar,  had  followed  Ulrich^s  narrative  in 

wrapt  attention.]  Good  God! 

Vlrich.    Such  was  the  source  of  all  these  tidings. 

So  well  confirmed  from  many  sides. 

I  dared  no  longer  nurse  my  doubts.    I  fled ! 

As  then,  through  Germany  I  rode  along 

The  Rhine/l  came  across  some  trav'lers. 

Proceeding  fresh  from  Rome.    Their  tidings  was 

At  Rome  the  people  looked  to  have  me  soon: 

The  Pope  beside  himself  was  in  hot  rage. 

Aye,  ev'rywhere,  in  cv'ry  town  I  heard 

Of  my  destruction  open  converse  held — 

Some  said  I  was  imprisoned;  others,  dead. 

When,  finally,  in  safety  I  rode  into 

Mayence  and  Frankfort,  there  came 

To  meet  me,  weeping,  many  friends, 

Who  long  for  lost  myself  had  given  up. 


16  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

Saluted  me  like  one  who  dead  was  thought. 

And  sobbing  hung  upon  my  neck. 
Marie.  Poor  man! 

Fra/nz.     [Significantly.}    Now  are  you,  Ulrieh,  truly  knighted! 
Vlrich.     [Proceeding  with  a  painful  expression.} 

But  many  a  friend  I  also  met,  who  now. 

Quite  fearfully  and  timid  drew  himself 

Away,  affrighted  by  the  papal  ban. 

Some  openly,  less  frank  some  others. 

Yet  plain  enough  their  meaning  Was  to  me 

That  I  a  burden  now  was  deemed  by  them. 

And  yet,  some  others,  who,  in  threatening  days, 

My  voice  had  given  aid  and  comfort. 

And  whom  an  anchor  I  had  been 

In  many  a  storm — ^their  language  to  me  now 

Was  that  they  secretly  remained  my  friends, 

But  that,  as  I  would  have  to  admit,  could  not 

In  public  by  me  take  their  stand. 

They  could  not  wholly  break  with  Rome,  they  thought! 
[After  a  momenVs  pause.} 

Sir  knight,  to  meet  such  treatment  from  one's  friends, 

From  men  on  whom,  with  ever  ready  heart. 

One  freely  poured  his  warm,  unstinted  love. 

Oh,  that  pains  sore! 
Franz.  Sir  Ulrieh,  be  a  man! 

Be  not  cast  down  by  th'  ev'ry  day  occurrence — 

How  can  it  sadden  your  experienced  mind 

That  you  yourself  must  undergo  a  trial 

At  ODce  so  natural  and  obvious! 

Them  all  does  Rome  hold  fettered  in  her  hands 

Through  terror — ^and  their  interests  'bove  all ! 

Know  this:    Of  them  each  one  is  after  this  or  that; 

Still  oft'ner,  anxious  not  to  lose  whatever 

He  has!  E'en  he,  who  seeks  naught  for  himself, 

Has  brothers,  sisters,  mayhap  children. 

Whose  interests  restrain  him  to  break  off 

Too  sharply  with  the  powers  that  be.    Thus  e'en 

The  holy  bonds  of  family — 

That  noble  teacher  of  morality. 

Us  here  below  by  Nature  given 

To  tutor  us  upon  the  duty  of  man. 

To  learn  to  rise  above  his  petty  self — 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  17i 

Become  a  spur  and  lure  to  meannesSj 

With  th'  aid  of  sentimental  sophistry 

Our  better  selves  into  the  mire  dragging./^ 

Well  did  the  Vatican  its  bus'ness  know 

When,  at  the  goal  of  universal  power  aiming, 

And  the  creation  of  a  fighting  army. 

That,  free  from  all  entangling  hindrances. 

On  one  great  aim  its  complete  efforts  bends. 

Upon  the  clergy  imposed  the  sinful  duty 

Of  celibacy! — Yet  you.  Sir  Ulrich, 

You  may  not  by  the  painful  lessons  of 

Experience  bitter  let  your  strength  be  lamed. 

Whoe'er  your  mighty  mission  taketh  up. 

Such  vipers  he  should,  undeterred,  let  free 

Around  his  breast  coil  and  uncoil  themselves, 

But  buckle  all  the  firmer  on  his  mail 

Himself  against  their  pois'nous  sting  to  shield. 

Still  firmer  buckle  on  the  matchless  mail. 

On  you  bestowed  by  Nature  as  her  gift! 

The  brilliant  inspiration,  you  'twill  ne'er 

Deny! — The  truth  of  that  that  you  proclaim 

That  wavers  ne'er,  however,  men  may  waver. 
Ulrich.    [With  animation.]    Oh,  well  I  see  before  me  standing 

The  last  of  German  heroes!    Sickingen, 

With  right  does  fame  pronounce  you  great  alike 

In  word  and  deed.    Oh,  German  virtue  lives 

With  renewed,  mighty  force  in  you! 
Franz.    May  God  forefend  I  be  the  last  of  all! 

Yourself  have  said  that  faithful  many  friends 

You  met,  who  did  not  turn  away. 
Ulrich.     Indeed  I  met  them,  yet  themselves  they  urged 

Me  with  insiatance  from  the  towns  away. 

Afraid  the  blows  'gainst  me  of  secret  or 

Of  open  foes  they  could  not  parry. 

Pope  Leo,  ev'rywhere  'tis  said,  has  sworn 

To  look  upon  and  as  a  foe  to  treat 

Whoever  shelters  or  befriendeth  me. 

You  know,  the  towns — where  arts  and  science 

A  mighty  increment  have  won. 

And  hence  beget  a  noble  love  of  freedom — 

Are  friendly  to  the  doctrine  new  proclaimed. 

And  yet,  you  know  the  usual  run  of  things : 


18  FRANZ  VON  sicKiNaEi;r. 

The  larger  number  of  the  burghers  grave, 
Who  rule  in  all  the  councils  of  the  towns* 
Are  rather  circumspect  and  wary,  avoid 
Entangled  to  become  by  overt  acts, 
And  fear  with  this  or  that  Prince,  who,  perchance, 
Obedient  to  the  Pope  might  requisition  me, 
To  come  in  open  conflict. — 

[After  a  pause.]    Perhaps  they  still 
A  silent  shelter  might  have  granted;  but — 
You  know  that  I  myself  can  not  lie  low! 
I  can  not  silent  be ;  with  silence  can 
Not  purchase  sanctuary. — 

IWith  increasing  fire  and  cmimation.'] 
The  spirit  moves  me!     I  must  its  testimony  give! 

[Pressing  his  heart.] 
I  can  not  still  what  clamors  here  so  loud. 
The  direr,  wider  spreads  the  gen'ral  stress. 
That  in  despair,  as  frightened  by  a  pest, 
Sends  all  to  hide  within  their  houses^ 
In  silence  sliding  past  the  one  the  other — 
Then  all  the  more  the  spirit's  inpulse  moves 
Me  'gainst  the  devastation  stand  to  take; 
The  more  it  threatens,  all  the  more  to  fight! 
Oh,  had  I  thousand  tongues — ^just  now 
With  all  the  thousand  I  would  wish  to  speak ! 
I  much  prefer  in  poverty  pursued 
To  flee  from  place  to  place  a  hunted  beast 
Than  Truth  renounce  by  silence!     Mayhap 
That  brute  force  may  succeed  to  crush  me  down; 
The  spirit's  voice  it  nevermore  can  hush. 

Franz.    There  speaks  your  heroism,  Ulrich! 

It  seems  as  if  the  whole  strength  of  the  Age 
Compressed  has  been  in  but  two  men  alone. 
Yourself  and  Luther  hold  the  torches  up ! 
What  are  the  rest  to  these  two  giant  forms! — 
Give  me  your  hand.  What  now  you  just  have  said 
My  mind  with  supreme  wonder  would  have  filled 
If  I  not  long  as  much  of  you  had  known. 

Ulrich.    Not  therefor  praise  me,  Franz!    Not  few  are  those 
Who  on  that  very  score  have  blamed  me  hard ; 
And  yet,  the  matter  well  considered. 
Nor  blame  nor  praise  do  I  deserve. 


fHANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  Id 

By  Nature  so  constructed  that  the  ills 

Of  others  hard  upon  my  spirit  weigh, 

That  more  than  others*  heart  the  public  stress 

My  own  does  wring — I  can  not  change  it,  Sir, 

It  is  an  inborn  impulse! 

[After  a  pause.]    All  my  friends 

Knew  that;  'tis  why  in  fear  and  dread  they  drove  me 

From  to\Vn  to  town,  advice  to  take  with  you, 

^ranciscus. 
Franz.  Aye,  no  wiser  counsel,  truly. 

Your  friends  in  trouble  could  have  hit  upon. 

Upon  a  strong  wall  you  have  leaned  yourself, 

Sir  Ulrich;  might  may  cause  it  to  break  down, 

But  there's  no  storm  can  make  it  quaver. 
Balth.    They  doubly  wise  advised  you,  Sir.     Indeed. 

For  them  as  wise  as  for  yourself. 
Ulrich.    A  proscribed  man  you  thus  before  you  see, 

Franciscus ! 

[Stepping  tovmrds  Franz  and  taking   his  hoMd.] 
Oh,  what  weighs  upon  my  soul 

Is  not  the  risk  of  life  and  limb  I  run; 

Quite  other  thoughts.  Sir  knight,  oppress  me  sore. 

Why  should  such  dangers  dog  my  ev'ry  step? 

Why  should  exposure  threaten  warm  desire 

Devoted  to  the  common  weal?    These  ills 

Pursue  my  love  and  homage  unto  Truth 

And  Fatherland.    For  these  to  shame  must  I 

Be  brought?     For  all  one  man  has  taken  stand — 

And  should  not  all  rejoice  that  one  to  shield? 

Oh,  where  is  honor,  where  is  virtue  gone! 

Oh,  where  that  German  strength  and  valor 

The  theme  of  song  and  legendary  prose? 

Would  they  impassive  him  in  bonds  see  thrust 

Who  strives  the  bonds  of  all  to  snap? 

Such  course  the  masses  brands  with  dullness. 
Franz.     Be  not  deterred. — The  masses  are  a  child 

That  must  be  first  drilled,  educated 

Before  their  better  sense  can  have  free  play. 

What  else  can  we  expect  as  the  result 

Of  priestly  oppression  and  besotment? 

Indeed,  if  that  were  possible,  you  must 

Admit,  the  reasons  for  complaint  against 


20  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

The  system  would  not  be  so  strong  and  grave — 

So  far  as  you're  concerned,  I  only  wish 

The  public  stress  as  eas'ly  as  your  own 

Could  be  dispelled. — [Walks  up  and  down  meditatively.} 
Yet  what  concerns 

Th*  affairs  of  Fatherland  and  Emperor, 

We  shall  not  yet  lose  hope  and  courage  quite. 

I'll  write  to  him;  shall  see  him  personally; 

An  audience  I  shall  have.^ 
Ulrich.  The  talk  is  general  ** 

Of  the  great  favor  that  with  the  Emp'ror  you 

Enjoy.     'Tis  stated  how,  at  Aachen,  at 

The  coronation,  he  pronouncedly 

Distinguished  you  'bove  th'  assembled  Princes. 

And  well,  indeed,  he  may  no  less. — 

Throughout  the  land  it  is  by  all  believed 

To  you  th'  imperial  crown  he  owes. 
Franz.    But,  now,  to  you.    I  place  my  burgs,  them  all. 

At  your  disposal.     In  them  rule  at  will, 

Like  I  myself.    My  word  upon  it,  Sir — 

'Gainst  realm  and  Emp'ror  I  will  hold  you  free. 

As  far  as  need  may  be. — Tho',  it  seems  to  me, 

From  Sickingen  there'll  none  be  to  demand  you. 

Your  refuge  choose  yourself;  yet,  would  you  please 

Me,  stay  you  here  with  me ;  let  this  my  home. 

The  Ebernburg  your  shelter  be. 

[During  the  last  three  lines ,  all  three  group  them- 
selves in  a  semiqircle  around  Ulrich.} 
Ulrich.     [With  exaltation.] 

Oh,  Justice's  Shelter  I  shall  name  it. 

For  here  alone  the  right  of  freedom  dwells! 

In  song  remote  posterity  shall  know  it. 

And  immortality  reward  its  name. 
Franz.     Nor  shall  you  idle  lie^  nor  silent. 

Your  batt'ries  I  will  furnish  unto  you — 

The  batt'ries  that  so  deftly  and  opportune. 

Our  words  into  a  bullet  can  transmute 

That  far  and  wide  the  furthest  bull's  eye  hits. 

And  Gutenberg,  not  ^et  a  hundred  years 

Ago,  contrived.    A  pres»s  I'll  have  set  up. 

Bombard  the  country;  do  it  bold  and  brave; 

Forewarn,  instruct,  incite  and  propagate; 


IHANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  21 

Enlighten,  stir,  inflame  the  nation! 

Show  what  the  mind  of  man  can  do.    Dispel 

The  pitchy  night  like  sun-rays  do  the  mist! 

With  willing  heart  I'll  give  a  helping  hand. 

And  also,  if  you  will,  to  Luther  write, 

If  his  pen  too  the  powers  seek  to  bend, 

That  here  at  the  Ebernburg  he'll  find 

Asylum  ready  and  of  the  press  full  freedom: 

No  longer  need  he  with  Electors  bother: 

And,  at  the  worst,  against  these  robust  walls, 

Th'  unconquerable  ones  of  Ebernburg, 

Full  many  an  army  its  head  would  have  to  run 

Before  a  hair  upon  his  head  was  touched. 
Balth.    Then,  also,  at  these  burgs  of  ours,  you 

Will  find  not  few  the  heralders  inspired 

Of  the  new  doctrine,  who,  like  you,  have  hither 

Fled.    Oh,  they  will  with  warmth  press  you  to  heart  I 
Marie.    And  also  I  would  offer  what  I  may. 

However   slight!    Of  music  you  are  fond — 

When  cares  press  you  hard,  I  will  their  pall 

Dispel  and  chase  away  with  sweetest  song. 
Franz.    Now,  come;  inspect  the  new  asylum 

That  you  are  now  to  occupy — 

Besides,  I  wish  to  see  you  privately. 
Ulrich.    How  in  this  circle  of  the  loved 

My  heart  grows  soft,  and  yet  with  strength  is  filled! 

How  in  my  breast's  deep  depth  the  pure 

Impatience  of  the  mind  is  soothed  and  stilled! 

As  'neath  the  warm  and  loving  sun-rays 

The  seed  matures  and  ripens  into  fruit. 

So  in  this  moment's  tender  pleasures 

Maturer  strength  pervades  my  structure. 

New  springs  of  life  course  wildly  through  my  veins^ 

What  once  was  dark  to  light  is  ripened  now. 

Here  first  I  felt  the  glow  of  human  speech. 

And  what  I  am — 'tis  here  will  unfold! 

IThe  curtain  closes.} 


22  FRANZ  ^ON  SICKINGEN. 

ACT  II. 

Scene  I. — A  castle  in  the  neighborhood  of  Worms, 

The  stage  represents  a  knight's  state  room.     To  the  left  is  a  cah- 
inet.    At  its  half-open  door,  in  the  act  of  leaving  the  caUnet  and 
closing  the  door  after  him,  stands  the  Imperial  Counoilor  Hans 
Kenneb  bowing  to  a  person  within. 
Emp.     [From  within  the  cabinet.^ 

These  matters  all  with  him  arranged. 

Apprise  me.     For  all  others   I  shall  be 

Engaged. 
Ren.     iBowing.l  It  will  be  done,  Imperial  Majesty! 

{Closes  the  door  of  the  cabinet  and  steps  forward.} 

A  wondrous  youth  this  Charles!     Upon  his  one 

And  twenty  years'  shoulders  there  sits 

A  head  full  fifty  years  old  and  wise, 

So  serious-keen,  so  penetrating-sage, 

Unlike  all  else  upon  young  age  bestowed! 

Tis  almost  against  Nature's  course  so  ripe, 

At  such  an  age  so  consummate  reserved 

To  be!    Who  could  his  purpose  penetrate? 

Or  fathom  what  he  means  concealed  to  keep? 

But  one  thing  is  quite  clear.     No  common  mind 

Dwells  in  this  young  man's  well  controlled  being, 
[Is  for  a  moment  lost  in  meditation.} 

And  yet,  not  one  trait  has  he  of  you,  Max! 

You  were  quite  otherwise!    An  Emp'ror  still 

When  back  to  you  my  thoughts  revert — recall 

You  standing  here  in  the  bloom  of  youth — 

The  burden  of  my  three  score  years  and  ten 

Seems  almost  to  roll  off  my  stooping  back! 

In  my  eyes  you  have  never  agfed. 

I  ever  see  you  in  your  fullest  youth — 

When  your  blonde  hair  in  rippling  ringlets  fell; 

Your  eyes,  deep  blue,  broad-orbed,  whose  brilliant  light 

Like  two  stars  shone;  your  free,  clear  voice, 

That  mild  and  truthful,  music-like,  its  way 

Found  to  the  hearts  of  men ;  your  brov/ — 

A  mirror  on  which  all  could  read'ly  read 

What  on  it  written  stood,  and  found  to  read 

But  only  noblest  thoughts  of  German  stock. 

Oh,  Max,  why  did  you  die  before  myself! 


FEANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  23 

To  me  it  is  as  if  you  carried  with  you 
Whate'er  there  was  that  could  my  heart  delight. 
The  world  that  now  surrounds  me,  changed  is, 
You  were  the  last  of  German  knights  still  left. 
The  last  man — 

[Perceives  Franz  von  Sicking  en  approaching.} 
Yet  not  so!    For  what  complain! 
There  comes  another  like  to  him!    A  man 
As  Max  was,  and  by  him  beloved,  held  dear 
As  much  as  me!    God  bless  you,  gallant  Franz! 

Scene  II. — Rennee;    Fbanz. 

Franz.    God  bless  you,  noble  friend!     It  ever  was 

You  know,  a  feast  to  me  to  see  your  face. 
Ren.     Indeed  our  friendship  is  not  of  fresh  date, 

And  has  not  in  the  course  of  time  grown  grey. 

'Tis  good  that  you  are  there!     You're  punctual,  Franz, 

And  yet  impatiently  the  Emperor 

Awaits  you. 
Franz.  Will  you  announce  me  to  him? 

Ren.     Some  business  matters  I  was  first  to  settle. 
Franz.    If  Charles  with  me  has  business,  he  could 

No  more  agreeable  agent  have  selected. 

I  thank  him  for  the  choice. 
Ren.  And  so  'twas  meant 

By  Charles.     Yourself  and  me  his  purpose  was 

To  join.     It  is  not  business  only, — ^no! 

Higji  favor  is  to  be  bestowed  on  you 

And  that  is  why  the  Emp'ror  picked  out  me. 

The  heirloom  old,  by  Maximilian  left. 

From  all  his  council  gathered  there  at  Worms, 

Acquainted  with  the  friendship  that  us  binds. 

For,  as  he  knew  a  joy  to  me  'twould  be 

To  be  the  messenger  of  your  distinction, 

He  also  thinks  that  all  the  gladder  you 

Would  take  it  at  mine  own  than  other's  hands. 
Franz.     Oh!   lo,  an  expert  in  the  knowledge 

Of  human  nature  seems  the  younker! 
Ren.    Indeed;  above  all  gracious  unto  you! 

Sir  Franz,  the  Emp'ror  wished  with  you  and  you  with  him 

To  speak  during  this  Reichstag  held  at  Worms. 

But  having  heard  about  the  olden  feud 


24  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

That  once  raged  hot  between  yourself  and  Worms, 

The  Emp'ror  was  of  mind  it  might,  perhaps, 

For  many  reasons  inconvenience  you 

Were  he  to  invite  you  to  your  en'mies'  town; 

And,  therefore,  did  he,  Franz,  for  your  sake  change 

His  quarters  to  this  burg  for  a  few  days, 

And  gave  you  here  his  rendezvous.     For  no 

Elector,  think  I,  he'd  have  done  as  much! 

Franz.     Such  tender  thoughtfulness  does  please  me.     Tho' 
The  feud  I've  long  forgotten,  and,  I  hope. 
No  less  the  Wormsers  have  their  hatred. 
Yet  must  I  thankfully  th'  intention  note. 
Now,  to  the  point!     What  does  our  Emp'ror  wish 
From  Sickingen? 

Ren.  Sir,  to  the  point! 

As  you  well  know,  the  loan  has  fallen  due 
Of  twenty  thousand  guilders  gold,  that  you 
Advanced  the  Emperor.    But  in  his  purse 
The  ebb  as  low  is  as  is  high  the  tide 
Within  his  heart  for  you.     He  cannot  pay. 
The  armament  'gainst  Francis,  the  election — 
Have  thus  our  bags  exhausted 
That  th'  only  ground  we  clearly  see. 
And  which  affects  th'  Imperial  Councilors, 
A  ground,  though  bodiless,  yet  tangible. 
That,  like  a  shadow  is  hollow  and  void,  and  yet 
Is  hard  unto  the  touch  even  if  not 
Felt  after — the  bottom  of  the  hag! 
And  further  armaments,  and  larger,  will 
'Gainst  Francis  soon  be  imperative  to  us. 
The  Emp'ror,  therefore,  prays  you  to  extend 
The  loan.     A  few  years  more  and  he  will  pay, 

Franz.     My  worthy  friend — 

Ren.  No,  listen  to  the  end; 

I  well  know  what  you  have  to  say,  Sir  Franz. 
Believe  me — Imperial  Councilors  are  so 
Accustomed  with  impatient  creditors 
To  deal,  that  we  are  able,  in  advance, 
By  heart,  upon  our  fingers'  ends,  the  grounds 
To  enumerate  that  we  quite  patiently 
Must  every  creditor  allow  to  dish 
Up  ever  and  anew  before  us. 
It  is  now  fort^  years  I  have  borrowed! 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

Since  I  in  Maximilian's  service  came, 

To  borrow  was  my  part.     What  could  you,  then. 

You  inexperienced  friend,  say  new  to  me? 

But  jokes  apart!     The  Emp'ror  knoweth  well 

That  it  must  cost  you  sacrifices  to 

Comply.     The  sum  is  large.     And  never  yet 

Was  gold  so  tight  and  scarce  as  now, 

Now  everyone  is  in  the  bankers'  hands. 

They  are  the  true  kings  in  these  days! 

It  looks  as  if  a  mammoth  suction  gear 

At  Augsburg  has  been  set  at  work,  the  which 

Its  tentacles  around  the  land  has  strung, 

And  all  the  gold  afloat  pumps  into  its  chests! 

Aye,  if  the  bankers,  at  the  time,  had  not 

Accepted  Charles'  note,  and  that  of  Francis 

Returned  protested,  and  with  scorn  to  boot — 

Who  knows  upon  whose  head  th'  imperial  crown 

Would  rest  to-day. — Oh,  never  Charles  forgets 

How  you,  the  usurers  to  bend  his  way. 

Yourself  did  pawn  yourself  to  them! 

Franz.    Oh,  mention  not  the  matter. 

Ren.  Allow  me  that  I  touch  it. 

And  just  because  of  you  but  only  great 
Tilings  are  expected,  pray  lag  not  behind 
Yourself,  this  time  refusing  to  comply. 
And  Charles  submits  a  double  guarantee — 
He  will  the  sum  on  land  and  upon  men 
By  letters  patent  formally  secure 
To  you  upon  such  terms  that,  if  default 
Is  made,  your  profit  will  be  great. 
And  if  you  should  prefer  it,  Margaret 
Of  Parma  all  her  jewels  offers  you 
In  pawn,  with  promise — 

Franz.  No  more,  I  pray  you,  Sir! 

You  offer  me  the  noble  lady's  jewels 
The  diadem  of  th'  Emp'ror's  cousin  I 
Shall  in  my  coffer  take  in  pawn  ?    How  long, 
Hans  Renner,  can  it  be  since  we  have  met. 
And  what  report  the  good  name  of  Franciscus 
Could  to  you  so  have  slandered  that  to  me 
You  such  an  offer  make?     You  misconstrued 
My  meaning,   Sir,  when  at  the  start 
You  interrupted  me.    No,  Sir,  at  your 


2«  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

First  words  fay  mind  was  firmly  made  up. 
The  habits  of  your  office,  filled  so  long, 
With  false  presumptions  haVe  deceivM  you. 
So,  then,  you  may  your  Charles  in  my  name  tell : 
When  he  with  greedy  traders,  Jews,  or  with 
The  Princes  of  our  realm  has  dealings,  then 
May  he  of  pawning  jewels  and  estates 
Hold  parlance — but  may  God  forfend  a  knight 
His  duty  to  his  Emperor  and  Lord 
Should  so  far  misapprize,  and  himself  hold 
So  slight  as  from  his  own  Imperial  Lord, 
Who  'gainst  the  realm's  foes  seeks  himself  to  arm, 
A  pledge  to  take  or  negotiate  for  one. 
Expecting  of   his  lands   to   cheat   him. 
The  loan  is  granted,  and  still  more 
If  you  should  need  and  I  should  able  be  to  raise. 
Yourself  the  day  of  payment  fix;  but  naught 
Of  jewels  or  estates.    Th*  Imperial  word 
Is  quite  enough  for  me. 
Ren.     [To  himself.]    A  creditor  unique!     Upon  my  soul. 
Now,  after  forty  years'  experience,  do 
I  for  the  first  time  meet  a  novel  case! 
[To  Franz.]    You  are,  as  ever,  knighthood's  flower 
And  mirror!  Yes,  admitted  frankly. 
Ashamed  am  I,  I  followed  the  routine. 
And  sought  to  handle  you  with  such  a  standard. 
Upon  the  worn-out  tracks  of  dull  experience. 
One  almost  does  forget  that  something  else 
Exists  which  on  life's  broad  highways 
Is  not  experienced!    Hence  the  folly 
Of  the  wise  yet  childish  errors  in  the  brains 
Of  those  grey  heads  that  dull  have  grown 
In  cleverness. — I  had  some  other  things 
To  deal  about  with  you,  but  first,  I  must 
Th'  Imperial  horn  of  favor  on  your  head, 
Franciscus,  empty.    Know,  drawn  up  lies. 
Imprinted  with  th'  Imperial  great  seal,  ready. 
The  bright  diploma  that  yourself  and  stock 
For  ever  to  the  rank  of  Count  does  raise 
In  our  German  realm. 

[Stepping  lack  and  hoioing.] 
Imperial  Count  of  Sickingent 
The  first  am  I  to  greet  you  by  the  name; 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  27 

And  'tis  but  only  the  first  rung,  the  Emp'ror 

Has  ordered  me  to  announce,  which  you  now  mount 

Upon  the  ladder  of  his  favor. 
Franz.     [Smiling.]    Then,  surely,  dear  friend,  I  mount  not  high, 

For  the  "first  rung,"  as  you  have  called  it. 

Remains  to  me  unmountahle. 
Ren.  How?    What? 

I  fail  to  grasp  your  meaning. 
Franz.  Yet  'tis  plain! 

I  must  the  favor — 
Ren.     [Anxiously.}     You  mean  not  to — ? 
Franz.     Decline,  my  friend. 

[Renner  steps  hack  stupefied.] 
I  am  a  simple  knight; 

I'm  Franz — now  see — I  mean  the  same  to  be! 
Ren.     [In  great  excitement.} 

I  pray  you,  do  you  joke?    And  why  should  you 

So  great  a  favor  scornfully  reject? 
Franz.     [Seriously  and  deliberately.} 

I've  told  you  why.     If  you  with  care  reflect, 

There  lay,  in  short  words,  ample  sense.     My  friend. 

Myself  my  title  have  I  framed  together! 

My  title  is  my  nam^,  my  dear  Sir! 

Throughout  the  realm,  Franciscus  am  I  called. 

The  name  is  common  to  good  many  more. 

And  yet  but  one  is  ever  by  it  meant. 
[Slightly  ironical.} 

Dull  mankind  learneth  hard  !V  Should  we  its  mem'ry. 

That  organ  so  resistful,  titles  new 

Inflict  upon,  that  never  in  its  ear 

Can  sound  as  well  as  th'  old  sounds  known  before? 

Please  tell  your*Charles  I'm  not  inclined  to  turn 

Men  into  school-boys,  and  compel  them 

To  learn  anew. 
Ren.  By  heaven,  no!  You  may 

Not  this  time  listen  to  your  stubborn  pride. 

Consider  his  proud  mind!    So  grave  an  insult! 

Decline  the  gift?    Reflect  what  you're  about! 

You  must  not,  I  insist — recall  the  word! 
Franz.   .[With  dignity.}     As  this  our  solid  earth's  gigantic  pile, 

Unshakable  does  stand  Franciscus'  word! 

[Milder}.    My  friend,  look  not  so  imploringly  at  me  I 

it  is  not  merely  pride  that  makes  me  speak. 


88  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

Why  mention  to  you  all  my  reasons?    Look, 
When  in  the  breeze  my  banner  waves,  a  crowd 
Of  Counts  of  our  Empire  fall  in  line — 
Not  one  more  if  I'm  made  a  Count  myself, 
But  many  less  from  knighthood's  sturdy  ranks. 
And  also  in  other  ways  it  hurtful  would 
Affect  me — a  runner  after  titles  folks 
Would  dub  me,  bent  on  own  promotion, 
Unneeded,  bootless  to  the  common  weal. 
No,  new  distinctions  I  shall  ne'er  assume 
But  such  as  may  increase  my  aptitude 
To  work  out  greater  weal  for  this  our  realm! 

Ren.    I  know  you  well — the  North  pole's  mound  of  ice 
Is  easier  far  to  melt  with  one's  own  breath 
Than  change  your  will! — But  what  am  I  to  tell 
The  Emp'ror  is  your  reason  for  declining? 

Franz.     Tell  him  the  offer  I  reject — and  if 
He  will,  himself  the  reason  I  shall  give. 

Ren.     Strange  man!  Be  't  so!     But  now,  I  hope,  at  least 
More  pliant  to  the  Emp'ror's  will  you'll  prove 
Upon  the  next,  last  head — the  Emp'ror  has 
Appointed  you  his  marshal  in  the  field, 
Also  his  chamberlain  and  councilor. 
A  life-guard,  two  score  strong  of  cuirassiers. 
At  his  expense  is  yours.     Another  man 
Than  you  the  news  would  be  imparted  as 
High  favor.    Yet,  with  you,  who,  when  he  gives. 
Is  soft  as  wax,  but,  when  receiving  hard 
As  adamant  another  course  must  stead. 
I  therefore,  Franz,  announce  it  straight  to  you — 
'Twill  please  the  Emperor  if  you  accept. 
He  greatly  needs  your  services,  and  counts 
Upon  your  military  skill  and  strength. 
Accept,  I  pray,  for  when  you  take  you  give! 

Franz.     One  thing  is  office,  rank  another  thing. 
For  office  spelleth  "duty;"  contrary 
From  rank,  it  flows  not  from  and  to  oneself. 
The  crown  itself,  that  noAV  the  Emp'ror  wears. 
An  office  'tis!    Whene'er  the  people  speak 
Of  th'  office  of  a  Prince  or  Emperor, 
In  mind  they  have  the  mighty  mission  of 
The  people's  shepherd;   other  thoughts  their  minds 
Possess  when  princely  rank  is  on  their  tongue. 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  29 

The  men,  who  steeped  in  vainglory,  puff  up 

Themselves  forgetful  of  the  aim  and  root 

Of  their  existence.    Yes,  a  field-marshal 

When  'gainst  his  own  foes  and  the  realm's 

The  Emperor  would  use  me,  yes — 

That  office  I  accept. 

But  not,  therefore,  am  I  to  all  work  bound — 

I,  first  of  all,  stand  by  the  men  who  stood 

By  us — our  friends  and  allies  whom  I'm  bound  to. 
Ren.    What  clauses,  and  as  many  as  you  please 

You're  free  to  make!     It  is  enough  that  you 

Accept!   But  now,  I  pray  you,  Franz — 

I  now  proceed  to  announce  you  to  the  Emperor — 

With  a  petition  charge  my  errand! 

You  granted  have  what  of  you  was  requested. 

And  have  rejected  what  was  offered. 

Believe  me,  that  he  ill  can  bear.     It  is 

A  thorn  pressed  in  his  proud  Imperial  soul. — 

It  almost  looks  like  an  exchange — yet,  Franz, 

I  pray  you,  if  but  for  my  sake  alone — 

To  soften  what  is  harsh  in  my  report — 

Petition  aught! 
Franz.  Well,  then!  The  Emperor 

Is  angered  at  th'  Elector  Palatine. 

If  I  not  err,  a  thunder  storm  now  threats 

To  break  upon  th'  Elector's  head.    He  is 

My  liege-lord,  and  since  olden  days  has  been 

A  friend  and  good  to  me,  as  I  to  him. 

You  may,  then,  tell  the  Emperor,  if  on 

Franciscus  grace  he  would  confer,  he  please 

His  anger,  whether  just  it  be  or  not. 

With  pardon's -tender  hand  to  strangle. 
Ren.    You  play  with  words,,  my  friend!     I  gladly  shall 

To  th'  Emperor  your  wishes  carry.  But 

That  is  not  a  request,  as  I  had  meant. 

Instead  of  for  yourself,  for  others  you 

Entreat,  as  though  you  wished  thereby  to  prove 

Yourself  naught  needed,  and  too  high  you  stood 

For  Charles's  grace  to  climb  the  stairs  ot 

The  throne  on  which,  in  self-sufficient  and 

Ecstatic  majesty,  you  sit!     Franz,  wound 

Not  th'  Emp'ror!    Could  you,  were  you  in  his  place. 


so  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

Ajfford  to  use  that  subject,  who  for  you 

No  use,  himself  can  find? 
Franz.  Perhaps  you  err. 

Perhaps  from  th'  Emperor  himself  so  much — 

So  very  much  I  have  to  ask,  that  'tis 

But  wisdom  if  my  credit's  weight  I  will 

Not  weaken,  since,  may  be,  the  simple  pound 

Of  his  Imperial  favor,  thrown  at  once 

Into  the  scale,  may  not  be  heavy  enough 

To  lift  the  weight  of  the  petition  that 

I  bring.     So  far,  you  questioned  me.     Now  let 

Me,  changing  our  rOles,  a  question  put 

To  you.    What  Charles  with  me  did  want — I  now 

Informed  am  on;  what  I  with  him — as  yet 

Not  one  word  did  you  utter.    Tell  me,  how 

Did  he  the  contents  of  my  letters  take? 

How  stand  things  with  this  Reichstag's  great  affair? 
Re7t.  Mean  you  Luther? 

It  may  be  many  weeks  before  the  schism 

At  all  can  come  up  for  discussion. 

Till  then  it  will  be  in  the  pow'r  of  none 

To  learn  what  in  his  mind  he  harbors. 

One  time  it  seems  like  this,  and  then  like  that. 

And  ever  it  but  seems.    The  grave  is  not 

So  locked  as  is  his  breast.     You  sooner  could 

Unlock  in  Nature's  breast  her  thoughts  most  hidden 

Than  from  him  learn  the  deed  before  'tis  done. 

But,  now,  allow  that  I  announce  you. — Look 

Who's  that  approaching?     Lo!   th'  Electors  two 

Of  Treves  and  Palatine,  besides  the  landgrave 

Philip  of  Hessen! 

[The  three  named  personages  enter,} 

Scene  III. — Former;  Electors  Ludwig  of  the  Palatinate  and  Abcr- 
BISHOP  RiCHAED  of  Trevcs ;  the  Landgrave  Philip  of  Hessen^ 

Ren     [Advancing  towards   them  and  hoioing.} 

I  welcome  you,  my  noble  Sirs! — At  youy 

Command!— 
4.rch.  Our  horses  hither. 

Sir  Council,  carried  us  from  Worms,  because 

W§  ffi«^tt?rs  qi  importance  have  to  troat 


Manz  von  SICKINGEN.  81 

With  th*  Emperor. 

[To  Ludioig.]      Better  than  elsewhere, 
Sir  Palatine,  we  here  can  manage  your 
Affair.     The  Legate,  warm  friend  of  my  youth. 
The  only  one  who  yet  has  influence 
With  Charles,  and  here  sojourns  with  him,  himself 
Advised  this  step  to  me,  and  promise  gave 
To  second  my  endeavors. 
Ren.  Your  graces! 

My  orders,  true  enough,  are  none  to  announce. 

Seeing  his  Majesty  on  matters  of 

Importance   rendezvoused  the   knight.     And  yet, 

I  may  not,  in  the  presence  of  such  Princes, 

Too  close  adhere  unto  the  letter  of 

My  orders. — 

[Bows  and  withdraws  into  the  imperial  cahi/net.l 

Scene  IV. — The  same,  without  Renneb. 

Franz.     [Takes  a  step  toivards  the  Count  Palatine  a/nd  hows.} 

Franciscus  greets  your  grace,  and  he  rejoices 

With  a  full  heart  to  see  you  look  so  well. 
Lud.     [Taking  a  step  towards  Franz  and  shaking  his  hand.] 

God  with  you,  Franz!     How  goes  it  in  your  house? 

How  does  your  pretty  daughter?    Often 
/    The  promise  made  you  and  again  to  send  her 

To  Heidelberg,  to  visit  my  wife's  court. 

[While  they  continue  to  converse  with  each  other.} 
Arch.     [To  Landgrave  Philip.] 

Behold !     We  meet  here  both  the  Kaisers — 

Both  Charles — and  yonder  Kaiser  by  the  grace 

Of  popularity,  bf  mass-applause — 

The  German  intellectual  Kaiser. 

Who  knows,  of  them  two,  which  it  is  that  will 

The  other  turn  to  a  man  of  straw.     Behold 

The  favor  that  th'  Elector  stands  in  with  him; 

We  almost  might  our  trouble  save  with  Charles, 

Since  he's  so  graciously  received  here! 

You  saw't  yourself — his  greeting  was  alone 

For  him,  while  not  a  nod  he  deemed  us  worth. 
Phil.     Prefer  it  so.     It  would  have  gone  against 

My  grain  a  greeting  to  return  to  him. 
Arch.    I  readily  believe  you.    Odd  must  be 


32  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEI^. 

The  itching  in  your  grace's  skin  as  oft 
As  you  behold  a  knight,  who,  like  him — 
So  wholly  has  you  in  his  pocket. 
Phil,     [Angrily.]     His  pocket?     Me?    What  have  you  in  mindt 
Arch.    The  obligation  is  upon  my  mind. 

Which   he — when  at  the  gay   and   sportive  hunt. 

That,  meaning  but  his  guns  to  keep  in  practice. 

Took  place  against  your  Darmstadt — won  from  you. 
Phil.     You're  scoflfing,  Sir — 
Arch.  Who  scoffs.  Sir  Philip,  pray? 

And  if  I  scoff,  God  knows,  I  scoff  as  much 

At  me  as  at  your  grace's  self! — 

Quite  serious; — has  it  e'er  been  seen  before 

A  simple  knight  a  Prince  to  so  toss  on 

His  horns  as  he  did  you?     Of  you  what  would 

Have  been  if,' for  the  Baden's  margrave's  sake 

He  had  not  been  content  to  leave  you  but 

Half  plucked  ?    And  have  you  calculated.  Sir, 

How  soon  the  moon  and  sunshine  in  your  states 

Would  constitute  their  only  earthly  wealth. 

Were  he  to  call  the  promissory  note 

With  which  you  forcM  were  to  purchase  peace? 
Phil.    Your  purpose  is  to  sting  me; — as  you're  well 

Aware,  the  obligation  was  pronounced 

By  Emp'ror  Max  invalid. 
Arch.  But  I've  heard 

That  in  advance  the  instrument  provides 

That  all  objections  you  renounce,  that  rest 

Upon  the  Emp'ror,  or  the  Reichstag's  vote. 

Thus  Max's  fiat  is  of  no  avail 

If  Franz,  as  lately  I  informed  have  been. 

Eventually  means  payment  to  demand. 
Phil.      All  one!     I  stand  upon  the  Emp'ror's  verdict. 

My  sword — 
Arch.  Is  still  the  same  as  'twas  before; 

But  otherwise  it  is  with  Franz's  sword! 

Compared   with   to-day,    his    power    then 

Could  slight  be  called.     Indeed,  your  grace,  it  shoots 

Gigantically  up,  a  pois'nous  tree, 

And  soon  its  shadow  will  have  swallowed  all  of  us! 
Phil.    And  be  it  so!     But  do  you  think  it  likely 

The  Emp'ror  could  the  debt  of  his  ances — 
Arch.     Speak  you  of  th'  Emp'ror  Charles?     Go  to,  Sir  Philip! 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  8S 

Have  you,  perchance,  been  able  to  scent  out 

The  plans  of  Charles?    And  do  you  think  the  proud 

Young  man,  the  autocratic  Lord  of  Spain, 

Delights  so  mucli  at  our  power  and 

Free  hand?    Therein  the  very  danger  lies 

That  threatens  us — Charles  and  Franciscus! 

Behold  two  cards  that  never  should  have  been 

Found  jointly  in  the  game  of  the  same  Age! 

Each  supplements  the  other,  and  can  turn 

Its  prop  to  mightiest  acts!     It  all  depends 

Upon  the  manner  accident  the  two 

Together  shuffles.    Sir,  we  may  expect — 

If  profit-lured — to  see,  as  yet  may  be, 

Instead  of  each  the  other  trumping,  each 

As  high  as  heaven  raise  the  other. 

Scene  V. — Renner  stepping  in  from  the  Imperial  cabinet;  the  others. 

Ren.     My  noble  Princes,  please  you  pardon  me! 
His  Majesty  Imperial  can  not  hear  you  now; 
He  to  the  castle  summoned  Franz,  the  knight. 
The  Emperor  expects  in  two  more  days 
To  be  at  leisure  and  to  listen 
To  you  at  Worms.  He  is  approaching. 

[After   making    this   announcement,   at    the   first   words   of 
which  Ludwig,  breaking  off  his  conversation  with  Franz, 
returns  to  the  other  Princes,  Renner  steps  to  the  opposite 
side  of  stage  towards  Franz.} 
Arch.     [With  jeering  and  triumphant  mien  to  the  two  Princes,  who, 
visibly  astonished  at  Renner's  announcement,  step  hack.} 
Pray,  tell  me,  do  you  notice  aught? 

[He  continues  to  converse  with  them  in  a  low  voice.     The 
personages  are  noio  so  grouped  that,  at  one  side  of  the 
stage,  Franz  and  Renner,  on  the  other,  the  three  Princes 
are   together.} 
Ren.     [To  Franz.}     Franciscus! 

With  greater  grace  than  I  had  feared  did  Charles 
Receive  our  dialogue's  report. 

[Contiyiues  in  a  low  voice.} 
Phil.     Indeed,  it  is  unheard-of!     Thus  three  Princes, 
Among  them  two  Electors,  to  dismiss 
For  but  a  knight! 


S4  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGJEN. 

Lud.  It  is  an  odd  thing — 

It  cannot  be  denied. 
Arch.  Keep  cool!     This  is 

But  the  beginning!     Mark  my  words,  the  knight 

Eventually  will  ask  us  all  the  price 

Of  our  Electoral  hats. 
Lud.  You  hate  him  for 

He  is  not  Romish,  but  of  Luther  a 

Supporter. 
Arch.     [Pointing  to  Philip.] 

This  Prince  also  is  friend 

Of  Luther,  yet  not  therefore  blind!     Nor  you, 

Your  grace,  although  on  purpose  you  may  choose 

To  shut  your  eyes.     Have  you  forgotten  how 

At  Aachen,  at  the  coronation,  Charles 

The  knight  before  th'  assembled  Princes  placed 

Upon  his  right? 

[They  continue  tn  a  low  voice,} 
Ben.     [To  Frcmz.}     The  Emp'ror  graciously 

Received  your  prayer  for  th'  Elector, 

And  for  your  sake  has  he  consented. 

Shall  I  not  now  the  Palatine  inform 

What  he  owes  you? 
Franz.  Pray,  do  not  so!     It  might 

His  self-esteem  offend — a  thing  I  would  avoid. 
[Glancing  at  the  group  of  Princes.] 

Besides,  I  see  quite  clearly  Romish  thorns 

Now  busy  at  work,  to  stir  up  petty  sores. 
Arch.    Say  what  may  please  you !   If  your  liege-lord  yonder- 
,    Excuse  me,  liege-man  should  I  say.     'Tis  thus 

That  words  are  readily  misprised — almost 

As  readily  as  rOles,  and  who  could  tell 

What  time  may  bring! — Tho',  then,  I  meant  to  say. 

Your  present  liege-man  with  such  grace  just  now 

Received  you,  yet   am   I  not,   for   that. 

So  fascinated  by  his  graciousness 

To  fail  to  feel  as  insult  done  to  me 

The  slap  bestowed,  for  his  sake,  on  my  cheek, 
Lud.     [Meditatively.] 

You're  partly  right  in  many  a  thing  you  say. 
Arch.    I  mean  also  the  other  half  to  unfold 

Quite  fully  to  your  eyes.     But  now  we  must 

Withdraw.    It  ill  would  us  befit  to  wait 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  85 

liii  Charles's  archM  eye-brows  bid  us  off 

The  hall.     You,  noble  Sirs,  pray  come.     Perhaps 

I  may  be  able  to  impart  to  you 

Some  information  that  yourselves  may  judge 

Whether  it  does  or  not  illuminate 

My  words,  and  what  yourselves  have  here  seen. 

[While  they  vnthdraw,  the  cabinet  opens  and  the  Emperor 
enters.  At  the  appearance  of  the  Emperor,  Renner  also 
withdraws  slowly.  Franz  hows  low,  and  remains  in  that 
posture. '[ 

Scene  VI. — Chables  am,d  Fbanz. 

Emp.  [At  the  age  of  21;  he  is  dressed  in  rigid  hlack;  his  hearing 
and  appearance  dignified  and  measured.  He  contemplates 
Franz  long  and  attentively.] 

You're  welcome  to  me,  Franz! 
Franz.     [Retaining  his  posture.]     Imperial  Majesty! 
Emp.    Approach ! 

[Franz  rises  and  takes  a  step  towards  Charles.] 
I'm  pleasM  with  you  Franz — 

And  also  not.    Indeed,  I'm  almost  wroth  I 

Although  I'll  readily  admit  the  fact 

That  none  as  yet  has  reason  given  me 

For  such  a  wrath. 
Franz.  Imperial  Majesty  I 

Emp.     Franciscus,  tell  me  frankly  why 

The  proffered  countship  you  decline? 
Franz.     Your  Majesty — 
Emp.  I  asked  you,  why? 

Speak  freely! 
Fra/nz.  .Well,  few  words  will  say  it  all — 

A  free  man,  independent,  have  I  served 

You;  free  and  independent  would  I  serve  you  still! 
Emp.     [To  himself.]    He's  proud,  by  God! 

[Aloud.]    Aye,  that  was  short  and  sharp. 

Perhaps — too  sharp,  Franciscus! 
Franz.  Sire ! 

Of  courtiers  your  supply  is  ample.     When 

Franciscus  you  interrogate,  meseems 

*Tis  truth  you  wish  to  learn.     Whenever  you 

Francsicus  question,  pray  do  not  expect — 
Emp.    The  siren  voice  of  flattery?    Be  't  so! 


St  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN* 

In  that  you*  re  right,  and  meet  my  wishes  well* 

Not  in  the  same  way  may  be  served  by  all 

He  who  well  served  would  be. — But  this  your  free 

And  independent  service,  as  you  called 

It— 
Franz.     [With  warmth.]    Is  but  all  the  more  devoted.  Sire, 

It  is  but  all  the  more  unmeasurM! 

The  service  that  is  paid  for  has  its  bounds, 

But  boundless  is  disinterestedness! 
Emp.     [Sympathetically  looking  upon  Franz,  and  with  empha^sia.} 

You're  right — 

[After  a  pause.]    And  yet,  Sir  Sickingen, 

It  ill  becomes  the  Emperor  that  he 

Your  debtor  should  remain — and  such  I  still 

Am  since  th'  election;  I  deny  it  not. 
Franz.     Imperial  Lord!     Th'  Elector  Palatine 

For  my  sake  you  have  pardoned — richly  with 

Such  act  the  slight  account  now  cancelled  stands. 
Emp.     No,  Franz!     Feign  not.     You  do  not  so  believe. 

Too   well  you   know  your   own   acts'   heavy   worth; 

And  neither  I  believe  so!    Keeping  faith 

With  friendship  and  with  faithful  service  done. 

You  have  the  occasion  been  for  me  my  wrath 

To  allay;   thus  have  you  in  virtue's  path — 

Which  is,  above  all  others,  Princes'  path — 

Confirmed  me  more — besides  a  new  friend  in 

The  Palatine  returned  to  me.     You  have  ^ 

Thus  doubly  and  anew  deserved  well 

Of  me.     Therefore  petition  aught,  Sir  knight, 

In  order  that  your  Emp'ror's  debt  may  shine 

On  you.    Or  do  you  deem  me  much  too  poor 

To  give  you  aught? 
Franz.     [With  warmth.]     You  poor,  whose  hand  within 

Its  hollow  holds  the  world's,  and  this  land's  fate? 

May  God  forbid  that  I  with  you,  my  Emp'ror, 

Should  play  the  proud! — If  in  his  grace  divine 

Th'  Almighty  left  you  a  prayer  free,  would  you 

On  this  or  that  the  costly  favor  waste, 

On  what  at  man's  hand  is  received  with  thanks? 

You,  sooner,  striving  for  an  instant's  share 

Of  His  omnipotence,  to  that  your  hand 

Would  stretch,  that  the  Creator's  full-might  needs 

For  its  accomplishment!     That  is  my  case. 


iHanz  von  SICKINGEN.  3t 

Exalted  Sire !  Th*  election  you  have  mentioned — 

Fulfill  the  reasons  why  upon  your  youthful 

Head  Germany  the  diadem  of  Christendom 

Did  place — the  richest  man  of  all  alive 

The  poorest  of  your  servants  then  you've  turned. 
Emp.     It  seemeth  the  conditions  never  end. 

In  this  your  land  determining  the  choice 

For  Emperor! — And  yet  from  you  I  fain  would  learn 

Upon  what  grounds  your  choice  upon  me  fell. 
Franz.     Three  were  the  reasons,  Sire,  and  yet  but  one — 

The  first,  because  you  Max*s  grandson  are, — 

This  vouched  to  us  your  German  mind.    The  second, 

Because  you  are  the  King  of  Spain, — a  guarantee 

That  you  would  never  lack  fof  strength 

Against  the  Princes'  anarchism 

The  realm's  integrity  to  safeguard. 

The  third,  'tis  this,  because  a  youth  you  are, — 

It  was  an  earnest  that  you  were  not  yet 

In  musty  custom's  jog-trot  hardened,  that 

You  were  not  fettered  in  the  bonds  of  bigotry. 

That  free,  your  young  heart  movfed  by  and  open  to 

The  Spirit  of  the  Age,  the  vassalage  would  spurn 

That  Roman  priestcraft  would  impose  upon 

The  masters  of  the  world. 

When  I  upon  you  look  and  con  the  signs 

That  cluster  thick  around  you — 

So  young  and  yet  the  world's  throne  called  to  fill; 

A  peerless  age,  at  which  the  highest  aims 

To  greater  still  the  thirst  for  action  drives; 

Three  kingdoms  holding  in  a  single  hand. 

And  thus  from  birth's  first  instant  armM  with 

A  weapoj  audi  as  heaven's  rare  grace 

Bestows  on  man  but  only  once  a  thousand  years — 
I  have  no  doubt  you  are  the  chosen  one, 

Like  a  Messiah  to  rejuvenate 

The  fate  of  this  our  earth  and  realm's  fair  life, 

And  start  them  both  upon  a  new  career. 
[tf'jeps  hack  bowing.] 

This  Reichstag,  Sire,  will  expectation  test — 
If  you  the  instrument  of  heaven  know 
To  use,  and  also  heaven's  task  fulfill! 
Emp.    You  speak  of  Luther,  Franz!     'Tis  there  that 
I  stood  awaiting  you.    You  not  conceal 


38  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

The  interest  you  take  in  this  monk's  cause. 

With  letters  oft  you  have  beseig^d  me, 

And  calumny  itself  at  work  has  been 

Yoi./  zealous  heart  before  me  to  besmirch. 

I  have  been  told — they  thought  to  make  me  think- 
That  out  of  love  for  Luther — fearing 

I  might  the  pass  break  which  I  promised  him 

To  this  Reichstag — ^you  posted  here  in 

The  neighborhood  of  Worms  five  hundred  knights. 

And  mounted  men  hold  ready  at  friendly  burgs, 

Int'^nding  him  to  free  with  force  of  arms, 

If  need  there  be! — You  see  how  little  faith 

To  the  report  I  lend  when  now  yourself 

I  ask  that  you  the  lie  may  give  to  it — 

Your  answer  I'll  consider  proof  enough. 
Franz.    And  so  you  may,  Sire!     Never  lie  will  cross 

Franciscus'  lips.     The  sland'rers  tongues — for  that    ■ 

They  are  in  spite  of  all — have  this 

Once  told  you  naught  but  what  is  true. 
Emp.     [To  himself.]     By  God,  quite  bold! 

[Aloud  and  with  severity.]     How  dare  you,  Sickingen. 

So  open  in  my  face  rebellious  acts 

Admit  to  me,  and  dreading  not  my  wrath? 
Franz.    No,  Sire!     The  undeserved  I  never  dread. 

For  your  fame's  sake,  and  for  the  nation's  cause 

Would  I  have  acted — if  to  act  was  need. 

One  Constance  is  enough  for  Germany. 

Not  wrath  should  be  my  due  from  you  but  thanks. 

If  I  from  grave  transgression  kept  you  free. 

And  though  the  rashness  of  your  youthful  wrath 

Struck  me,  'twere  better  I  with  wrath  were  struck 

Than  with  compunction  you!     Your  Emp'ror's  word 

You  Luther  gave.     Such  is  the  majesty, 

That  word's  effect  and  force,  that  straight  to  law 

*Tis  raised,  a  law  that  bindeth  all,  and  all 

Are  called  to  uphold,  aye,  e'en  against  yourself. 

Your  word,  that  is  at  stake — ^but  not  its  breach! 
Emp.     [To  himself.]     Of  th'  olden  generation,  now  died  put, 

Of  German  heroes  that  the  legends  tell, 

A  last  descendant  stands  before  me. 
ITo  Franz.]     Sith  with  such  frankness  you  yourself  admit 

The  contemplation  of  the  risky  scheme 

Some  more  confessions  you  may  have  to  make. 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  39 

In  Worms,  at  all  the  corners  of  the  streets 

A  bill  was  found,  that,  posted  over  night, 

Was  filled  with  encouragement  to  Luther, 

And  threats,  if  violence  was  done  him.    The 

P'lacards  with  fearful  admonitions  closed. 

Repeating  thrice  the  word:  "Bundschuh!   Bundschuh!" 

The  shocking  symbol  of  the  peasant  riots! 

Is't  possible  my  noblemen  could  so 

Forget  themselves  as  e'en  against  the  realm's 

Peace  common  cause  with  peasants  vile  to  make? 

Did  that  from  you  proceed?    I  wish  to  know.    Speak  out! 
Franz.     Imperial  Majesty! — 
Emp,     [Abruptly  interrupting,]  No,  silence!  Not  a  word,  Sir  knightl 

A  dangerous  thing,  I  see,  it  is  to  question  you. 

I  more  might  learn  than  profitable  'tis  to  know. 

'Tis  better,  for  myself  and  you  I  hear  naught! 

I  wish  no  more  to  know.  Sir  knight. — no  more  on  that  I 
[After  a  pause.] 

1  see  it,  Franz,  the  common  measure  that 

We  others  measure  with,  is  not  for  you. 

To  you,  what  to  none  other,  pardoned  is. 

I  am  not  wroth  at  what  you  just  have  said. 

Yet  odd  it  is  that  you — a  warrior  bold, 

Whom  else  the  wranglings  of  the  priests  concerns 

But  slight,   should  so  absorbed  be  in  this  monk. 

Your  mind,  I  thought,  for  greatness  only  thirsts. 
Franz.    And  for  my  country's  greatness  thirsteth  he! 
Emp.     And  is  it  with  this  monk  identified? 
Franz.     So  fully  that  whoever,  through  impluse  and 

Through  manly  duty,  as  well  as  by  profession  serves 

The  one,  compelled  is  the  other  too  to  serve. 
Emp.     And  even  if  it  were — ^you  truly,  think 

Against  the  Church's  sacred  ordinance. 

From  God  derived,  my  mind  to  turn  away? 
Fra/nz.    My  Emperor! 

With  such  an  answer  do  I  credit  you 

As  little  as  for  mine  you  gave  me  credit. 

The  truth  I  said  to  you — to  me  speak  truly  too. 
[Charles  makes  a  motion  of  astonishment.] 

Exalted  Sire! 

Your  sight  is  clear!     The  band  of  blindness  cai\ 

Before  your  eyes  no  priestly  artifice 

Praw  tight.     If  Jiere  in  Europe  Uv^  ^ut, 


40  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

One  foe  unto  the  Pope,  that  deadly  foe 

Is  you.     By  office  and  by  birth  you  are 

His  foe.     Hereditary  is  the  feud 

Adown  your  lineage  long  descent 

Between  the  two.  And  when  with  glory  and  fame 

Your  ancestors  in  office  bore  your  staff, 

As  heavy,  heavier  yet  than  kin  or  blood 

They  weigh.     Upon  your  young  head  loudly  cries 

A  heritage  of  vengeance — five  hundred  years  old. 

Remember  our  Henry's  fate,  whose  heart 

Broke  at  Canossa  when  the  knee  he  bent; 

Remember  Barbarossa's  life  heroic, 

To  long  protected  struggles  given  o'er, 

In  vain  the  foot-kiss  shame  to  blot  away; 

Recall  that  wonderfully  brilliant  form 

Of  Frederick  the  Second,  against  whom 

His  own  sons  Rome  set  up — thus  parricide 

Approving,  if  but  the  Emperor  was  struck! 

So  long  as  Popes  there  were  and  Emperors, 

Each  in  the  other's  red  blood  wrote,  and  with 

His  sharpest  weapons  drew  the  record  fell. 

Around  you  hover,  palpitating. 

The  spirits  of  your  ancestors;  to  you 

Their  hands  imploringly  they  raise,  and  cry 

Oh,  happy  one! 

Emp.     [Interrupting  and  deeply  moved.] 

I  pray  you  stop!     Your  zeal  is  carrying  you  away! 

Franz.     [Continues  passionately.} 

You,  chosen  one,  the  bearer  of  our  sword, 
In  your  hands  heaven  has  the  power  placed 
From  this  land's  flesh  the  galling  thorn  to  draw. 
The  martyr's  stake,  at  which  we  all  of  us 
Have  bled  and  with  us,  aye,  our  bleeding  race. 
In  vain  and  prolonged  torture  writhing! 
You,  you  can  now  the  deed  accomplish!     You 
The  weapon  swing,  the  mighty  queller  wield! 
Betray  not  our  eyes,  with  sorrow  broken — 
Oh,  trample  under  foot  the  priest,  against 
Whom  all  of  us,  all  peoples'  history, 
At  your  side  stand  as  bleeding  witnesses — 
Forsooth — if  you  could  peace  make  with  the  Pope, 
Yourself  you  from  the  Imperial  lineage  strike. 
And  consecrate  your  stock  to  our  nation's  curse! 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  41 

Emp.     [Interrupting  as  above.] 

Again  I  pray  you,  moderate  your  zeal! 

You  almost  carry  me  away — ^yet  may 

Not  passion  rule  in  such  supreme  affairs. 

You  are  aflame,  your  voice — 
Franz.  Blares  like  the  trumpet 

Which  is  to  announce  the  judgment  of  all  time. 

Its  sound-wave  surgeth,  seetheth  with  the  clash 

Of  the  future  and  the  past,  loudly  beating 

Against  the  dull-deaf  ear  of  the  present. 

— And  if  it  possible  could  be,  if  such 

A  line  of  heroes  could  not  move  you. 

Think  of  your  blood,  of  Max,  your  ancestor. 

Whose  life  having  out-lived  six  Popes', 

The  well-known  cry  of  pain  still  rounded  up: 

And  e'en  the  last  one  also  cheated  me! 

Think  of  yourself,  whose  very  first  step  stumped 

Upon  that  heaped-up  papal  enmity, 

That,  meddling,  hell  and  heaven  stirred  to  thwart 

Your  candidacy,  unable  to  believe 

You  could  for  Rome's  equerry  have  been  born. 
Emp.    If  e'er  the  Pope,  presumptuous,  stretch  his  hand 

After  my  crown's  rights  temporal — believe  me, 

We  shall  not  lack  for  either  shield  or  sword. 

Another  thing  it  is  within  the  realm  of  faith 

Against  the  Church's  rule  an  impious  hand  to  raise. 
Franz.     Sire!   Equal  false  are  both  these  principles; 

And  equal  dangerous  are  both  to  you! 

Supremacy  in  human  conscience's  realm — 

Behold  th'  insidious,  poisoned  weapon  which, 

Triumphant  in  their  struggle  'against  th'  Empire, 

The  Gregorys  Und  Innocents  have  wielded. 

Can,  truly,  such  partition  satsify  you? 

In  man's  frame-work  the  body's  subject  to 

The  soul:   a  corpse  the  soulless  body  turns. 

To  you  such  portion  gladly  they  award 

While  confidently  holding  it  with  firm 

And  sure  grip  by  the  fetters  of  the  soul! 

So  that,  when  you  in  struggle's  stress  rely 
Most  confident  upon  your  scepter's  might, 

At  one  stroke  magic,  through  a  thousand  threads 

To  all  the  limbs  communicated,  lo! 

The  re-awakened  corpse  against  you's  flung, 


4»  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

Your  people  they  against  your  might  array! 
A  phantom-king  upon  your  throne  you  sit. 
So  long  the  curia  of  Rome  in  its  hand  holds 
The  seal  upon  your  people's  conscience! 

Emp.    And  all  this  is  by  Luther  to  be  changed? 
That  Augustinian  friar,  obscure  man, 
Whom  you  yourself  in  fear  stand,  I  may 
With  one  stroke  of  my  pen  annihilate? 

Franz.    You  err,  my  Emperor!     Learn  first  this  monk 
To  know.     On  his  tongue  dwells  the  Nation's  soul; 
From  his  eyes  flash  the  burning  sparks  of  Light; 
Upon  his  brow,  broad  as  eternity. 

Thought's  might  and  puissant  lightning  quiv'ring  glows; 
And  when  he  speaks  the  people's  heart  is  stirred 
As  when  the  lap  of  earth  the  Spring  awakes. 
As  birth  the  laden,  pregnant  woman's  womb 
With  new  life's  warm  presentiment  delights! 
Of  mind  the  mighty  ruler  he  stands  forth, 
His  mission's  truthfulness  attesting. 
Suppress — him,  Sire?  'Tis  likelier  far  the  monk 
May  write  yourself  from  crown — and  realm  to  boot! 
Ripe  are  my  people,  hanging  from  his  lips. 
No  Prince  so  mighty  him  to  annihilate. 

Emp.    You  mean — 

Franz.  Oh,  yield  not  to  the  Princely  illusion. 

The  old,  forever  on  its  heels  returning. 
You  hasten  may  — to  hinder  you  can  not; 
To  shape  you  can — ^but  not  to  dissipate. 
You  can  not  turn  awry,   delay  th'  inevitable. 
That  with  the  throb  of  life  strains  to  unfold 
Itself !  The  birth  that's  hard,  before  its  time 
The  wise  physician's  bold  cut  may  set  free — 
Caesarian  cut  coincidence  the  section  names. 
But  when  the  hour  strikes,  the  ninth  month's  peal, 
Not  all  the  power  of  earth,  in  one  hand  lumped, 
Can  close  the  mother's  womb,  or  could  prevent 
Her,  on  the  point  of  birth,  to  be  delivered! 
The  pressure  of  the  ripening,  throbbing  fruit 
Its  palings  bursts; — aye,  dead  leaps  into  light 
Tlie  life  itself  that  we  would  backward  thrust. 

Emp.    If  so  it  be — what  seek  you,  then,  with  me? 
Why  do  you  still  in  need  stand  of  my  aid? 

Fra/nz,    To  shape,  I  said,  it  lay  with  you,    Whole  worlds 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  4S 

Within  the  magic  circle  of  that  word 
Lie  locked.    Time  runs  its  course;  howe'er,  its  course 
Is  otherwise  vnth  you — and  otherwise 
Against.     Woe  if  against  yourself  it  be! 
Till  now  I  mentioned  to  you  only  Rome; 
But  almost  graver  dangers  are  abroad: — 
— Would  you  have  Luther  in  the  Princes'  hands 
To  fall?    Yourself  the  lever  furnish  them 
That  from  their  forlorn  tackle  now  redeems 
The  Nation's  unit  and  emp'rorship? 
In  your  hands  Luther  is  an  instrument 
Divine  the  greatness  of  the  land  to  raise; 
In  theirs  to  smite  the  land  in  ruins  with! 
Oh,  do  not  cast  away  the  Papal  rich 
Inheritance! — ^Dissolved,  if  hands  you  join 
With  Luther,  are  the  abbeys,  bishoprics — 
To  you,  the  realm,  these  livings  all  revert. 
With  th'  increased  power  in  your  hands,  away 
Will  melt  to  former  insignificance 
The  Princes'  arrogant  pretentiousness 
That  now  your  throne  o'ershadows.     Of  the  base 
Abuse  of  power — by  the  dint  of  which 
The'  Imperial  mandate  and  their  office  they 
To  property  have  changed,  thus  theft  committing 
Upon  the  majesty  of  th'  Emp'ror  and 
The  realm — the  hour  at  last  would  have  arrived 
When  ancient  Wrong  is  solvfed  into  Right, 
And  once  again  to  its  rightful  owner  come 
The  thievings  done  by  the  dishonest  stewards. 
— Aloft  borne  by  the  people,  who,  rejoicing. 
Surround  you  as  a  God  who  spoke  the  word 
Creative — then  all-powerful  you  are; 
A  greater  Charles  the  Great,  you  rear  anew 
This  realm's  old  splendor,  one-time  unity. 
Again  over  this  land's  domains  would  then 
The  Emp'ror's  hand  sway  free;  to  vassals  bac*: 
The  rankly  grown  will  reconverted  be; 
Then  only  will  you  le  what  now  you  seem — 
An  Emperor — and  thanks  to  Luther's  hand. 
Emp.     [Abruptly  breaking  in  with  involuntary  interest, "l 
And  why  did  he  not  go  to  th'  Ebernberg, 
Whither  at  my  request  you  invited  him 
To  meet  with  Glapio,  my  confessor,  and 


U  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

With  him  confer  ?    Upon  your  letters,  you 

To  please,  I  fell  in  with  the  plan.    To  my 

Word  true,  I  sent  you  Glapio — but  in  vain 

For  Luther  did  he  wait.     Why  came  he  not?     Speak! 
Franz.     [With  fire.]    Oh,  Sire!  With  Truth  there's  no  compoimdingi 

As  well  compound  with  th'  overtopping  fiery  pillar 

That  marched  before  the  hosts  of  Israel; 

As  well  compound  with  th'  arrowy  mountain  stream 

That,  certain  of  its  course,  is  dashing  on! 

I  wrote  to  him;  invited  him  to  come. 

Bui  that  ambassador  of  God  recoils 

Before  one  fear  only — 

His  enemies  he  fears  not,  he  fears 

His  friends  alone,  who,  in  love's  timid  cares. 

The  weakness  crouching  in  the  hearts  of  all 

Might  in  his  own  awaken,  and  abate 

His  zeal  for  that  which  in  his  soul  his  mind  has  writ. 

With  slackened  reins,  he  wrote,  his  impulse  drives 

Him  on  his  enemies  to  rush  headlong. 

Before  th'  assembled  realm  and  th'  Emperor, 

He  boldly  would  and  frank  the  solemn  Truth  confess. 
Emp.     [After  taking  a  few  steps  up  and  down  the  room  and  then 
pausing,  deliberately,] 

You  see  the  man  can  not  be  treated  with — 

And  I  shall  blindly  yield  myself  to  him  ? 

Shall,  as  the  tail  a  comet  follows,  this 

New  doctrine  follow  on  its  trackless  path? 

Are  we  a  gambler  that  upon  the  unknown 

Stakes  all  for  all? — No  more,  no  more  of  that! 

And  other  reasons — for  a  minute's  time 

Back-driven  by  your  stormy,  headlong  speech — 

Regain  once  more — like  unto  a  tree,  that,  once 

The  storm  that  bent  it's  o'er,  re-rears  its  head — 

Their  proper  mastery  resume: 

— ^You  spoke  of  greatness.    Is  there  none  but  that 

Which  you  pursue?     Three  crowns  you  said  this  hand 

Combines — and  a  new  world,  beyond  the  seas. 

Is  rising  promiseful  beneath  my  scepter. 

The  claim,  of  old  made  by  th'  Imperial  crown. 

The  throne  of   Christendom,  it  seems  is  near 

Reality.     Yet,  as  throughout  the  Universe 

But  one  thought  runs,  the  force  invisible 

Of  but  one  Church  it  is  that  holds  the  whole 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  45 

Together  and  cements  its  sev'ral  parts! 
One  faith  the  title  is  of  that  old  claim. 
One  faith  joins  all  the  peoples  of  my  realm, 
Whom  language,  customs,  laws,  keep  far  apart. 
The  Universe's  law  can  but  the  symbol  be 
Of  the  one  Church,  that  in  its  di'mond  head. 
The  high  Vice-regency  of  Christ,  is  bound. 
^One  Pope,  one  Emperor. — The  two  e'en  when 
At  war  with  one  another,  yet  so  mutually 
Dependent  on  each  other  as  the  soul  and  body! 
The  Roman  crown  Imperial,  what,  without 
That,  would  it  be?    At  one  fell  plunge  it  would 
Have  sunk  to  a  mere  territorial  princedom. 
— You  say  that  Luther's  doctrine  is  acclaimed 
By  Germany;  yet  not  of  this  land  only 
Am  th'  Emp'ror  I.    And  can  you  at  all  imagine 
Your  bleak  conceit — which  the  ideal  of 
A  living  incarnation  robs  us  of — 
Could  also  charm  the  Spanish  people,  or 
The  people  of  Neapel?     And  shall  I 
With  my  own  hand  the  bond  of  unity 
Destroy   that  winds   itself   around   my   realms? 
Turn  my  priest-loving  southern  souls,  my  own 
Hereditary  lands,  in  hate  from  me? 
Endanger  what  my  own  is  now;  and  I 
Myself  the  proud  traditions  cast  away 
Of  universal  rule  that  cluster  'round  my  crown? 
Franz.     [With  fire.]     Oh,  seek  not,  at  the  price  of  liberty 
Or  of  the  mind,  the  greatness  that  must  slip 
Your  hand.    The  architect  who  on  the  mind 
Of  man  would  rear  his  dome,  must  from  the  mind 
Itself  carve  hia*  material,  lest  like  boys 
He  acts,  who  in  the  sand  for  flitting  hours 
Their  figures  draw!    These  fancy-lines  are  swept 
Away,  dissolved  by  the  first  swell  that  springs 
Up  from  the  masses,  and  that  dashes  on 
Your  dreams.    The  Universal  Empire  draws 
You  on?    If,  strong  in  unity,  our  land 
InspirM  would  acclaim  you,  then  your  dream 
Would  crystallize.     'Tis  not  for  Spain — 'tis  far 
Above  her  strength.     Germania  has  this  world 
Before  now  conquered  with  her  sword,  and  with 
Her  spirit  captured  bold.    No  Pope  gave  her 


4e  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

The  fief.    His  own  high  rank  the  Pope  owes  to 
That  Charles,  not  he  unto  the  Pope.    Where  is 
The  sward  on  this  terrestrial  globe  not  fed 
Upon  Germania's  blood?     New  life  for  it 
We  conquered.    Ours — if  anyone's  is  this 
World  by  the  right  of  sustenance.     Through  us 
Alone  what  through  none  other  you  can  do! 
So  far  as  Europe's  strands  extend,  they  are 
By  our  Germania's  stock  rejuvenated. 
It  kept  unsullied  Europe's  heart;  and  from 
That  mother's  heart  the  cry  again  goes  up — 
The  awakening!   Stop  not  to  its  cry  the  ear 
Of  Europe — and  the  echo  will  reverberate 
Within  the  peoples'  pantheons.     Liberty 
A  seed  is  that,  if  wisely  nursed  in  ev'ry  land, 
Is  eas'ly  propagated;  while  the  plant 
Of  slav'ry,  raised  by  artifice,  the  soil. 
That  once  rejected  it,  accepts  no  more!- 
Oh,  sacrifice  not  unto  empty  fears 
The  spring  whence  flows  your  greatest  strength ; 
Oh,  do  not  sacrifice  your  crown  of  crowns ; 
Oh,  sacrifice  not  Germany  to  Naples! 
Emp.     Enough!      The  matter  has  been  weighed,   decided. 
I  can  not  as  you  would !     Were  I  a  German, 
Were  I  the  Emp'ror  of  but  Germany, 
I  might,  perhaps,  feel  as  you  do,  and  act 
Accordingly.     But  who  is  free  in  this 
Tumultuous  world?     Who  does  alone  decide, 
Instead  of  being  dictated  to  imperiously 
By  his  position's  iron  law  ?    The  favor 
That  I  conferred  on  you  you  spurned; 
One  favor,   though,   I  showed  to  you  that  none 
Alive  can  boast!     I  spoke  with  you  as  if 
Communing  with  myself.     I  faithful  shall 
The  favor  carry  to  the  end. — Three  reasons, 
Said  you,  decided  my  election; — three 
The  reasons  are  preventing  that  I  follow  you: 
The  first,  because  I  am  no  German ;  next. 
Because  of  Spain  I  am  the  king;  and  lastly. 
Because  the  crown,  that  you  my  crown  of  crowns 
Have  named,  from  stock  to  stock  uncertain  travels. 
Did  I  this  scepter  hold  hereditary. 
Like  that  of  Spain,  and  to  my  own  stock  could 


J'RANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  471 

Bequeathe  the  mighty  German  realm,  Oh,  then, 

The  matter  would  another  aspect  wear. 

But  any  encroachment  on  the  nomad  right 

Of  that  election — Franz,  you  might  yourself — 

[Pauses  and  casts  a  scrutinizing  look  at  Franz.} 
Franz.    [Deliberately. "[    A  thrust — against  our  German  freedom  deem. 
Emp.     [Taking  a  step  back  and  colder.} 

See  you?     And  with  the  Princes'  time-soaked  rights. 

With  the  tenacious  force  that  latent  lies 

In  all  abuse,  shall  I  on  life  and  death 

To  wrestle  undertake  ?  To  stake  on  such 

A  goal  my  whole  life's  full  endeavors. 

And  after  painful  and  uneasy  nights, 

In  case  I  triumphed,  such  a  might-begirted 

Crown,  such  a  priceless  jewel,  in  whose  splendor 

The  crowns  combined  of  Europe  all  would  pale. 

Shall  I  to  a  stranger  leave  for  heritage? 

Perchance  for  a  successor  of  the  Saxon  stock 

Am  I  such  work  to  achieve?    No,  Franz,  you  see, 

I've  thoroughly  revolved  it,  not  now  alone. 

Though  now  more  carefully  than  yet  before. 

Unshaken  stands  the  first  resolve  I  took. 

Impossible — by  that  we  must  abide. 

My  word  rests  on  the  best  considered  grounds. 
Franz.    You  speak,  I'd  say,  as  one  who  ripely  does  reflect, 

And  then  full  consciously — the  worser  part  selects! 
Emp.     [Frowning  with  severity.} 

That  word.  Sir  knight,  I'll  pardon,  but  upon 

Condition  that  I  hear  it  nevermore. 
Franz.     [Bows  silently.} 
Emp.     [After  a  pause,  and  kindly.} 

Your  dashftd  hopes  embitter  you;  they  make 

You  fail  in  justice.     Yet  I  hope  that  time 

To  rosier  thoughts  will  bring  you  back  again. 

Give  up  what  'tis  impossible  to  reach. 

There  are  still  other  aims  to  strive  for  than 

Your  own,  and  not  less  worthy  of  endeavor. 

If  you  but  mine  unto  your  own  wish  would 

Convert,  then,  Franz,  then,  through  th'  Imperial  favor. 

As  high  as  none  did  mount  before,  could  you. 

[Pauses  and  ca^ts  a  long  penetrating  look  at  Franz,  who  re- 
mains  motionless.} 

Till  then — you  are  dismissed.  Sir  knight! 


«8  rRAN2:  VON  SICKINGEN. 

[Franz  hows  low  and  departs  in  silence.] 
The  man  is  great — but  'tis  not  greatness  that 
I  seek,  or  that  of  use  can  be  to  me. 

[Returns  into  the  cabinet.    The  scene  changes.} 

Scene  VII. — Cabinet  of  the  Papal  Cardinal-Legate,  located  at  another 
wing  in  the  castle. 

The  Cabdinal-Legate  and  Electob-Abchbishop  Richaed  enter  from 

a  side-room. 

Arch.    It  happened  just  as  I  to  you  narrated. 
Card.    'Tis  serious,  very  serious! — And  the  issue 

Of  their  discourse,  have  you  an  inkling  of? 
Arch.    I  left  as  Charles  appeared.     But  looking  back, 

I  saw  Hans  Renner  also  leave  the  hall. 

Also  the  minister  not  wanted  seemed, 

And  all  alone  wished  Charles  with  him  to  speak. 
Card.     Odd!   Yet  whate'er  the  subject  they  discussed,    ■ 

Whate'er  the  issue  may  have  been — a  thorn 

The  man  is  us — of  Rome  a  hater,  friend 

Of  Hutten,  and  protector  of  Reuchlin. 
Arch.    And  Luther's  best  support;  the  soul  of  the 

Nobility,  that  rallies  round  his  flag, 

In  whom  his  hostile  temper  he  instills. 

And  'gainst  us  all  to  bitter  foes  has  turned. 
Card.     The  thing  to  do  is  to  extract  this  thorn. 
Arch.    Proceed  to  extract.  Sir  Cardinal.    He  will 

Quite  rudely,  bloody  too,  your  fingers  prick. 
Card.     What  have  you  in  mind?    Pray,  speak  out  plain  to  n.o. 

I  know,  when  danger  once  you  scented  have. 

You  forthwith  plan  the  way  it  can  be  choked. 
Arch.    There  is  no  lack  of  planning.    Long  I've  planned. 

To-day,  somewhat  more  kind,  chance  smiled  on  me. 

It  is  not  much,  but  yet  a  germ  of  hope. 

But  you  I'd  hear  first.     Could  you  not  stir 

The  Emp'ror   against  Franz? 
Card.  To  attack  decide 

Him  'gainst  Franciscus?     Quite  impossible! 

Too  deep  he  stands  to  Sickingen  indebted; 

Is  yet  too  young  the  favor  to  despise! 

And  yet — if  others  could  the  knight  trepan. 

Involve  him  in  some  wrongful  act,  I  might, 


FRAN2  VON  SICKINGEN.  49 

Perhaps — I  say  perhaps,  Sir  Archbishop — 

Induce  him  quietly  to  let  him  drop. 
Arch     [Shrugging  his  shoulders.} 

If  you  no  further  are  advanced,  then  must 

We  long  the  threat'ning  danger  bear!  So  long. 

Perhaps,  that  the  hour  may  have  slipped  by 

When  we  the  danger  might  have  overcome. 
Card.    Yourself  to  a  chance's  smile  alluded  but 

Just  now? 
Arch.  For  what  'tis  worth  I'll  use  it  free. 

You  know  with  what  eyes  of  a  just  concern 

And  fear  for  long  most  of  the  Princes  look 

Upon  Franciscus.     Unto  him,  alone 

Th'  Elector  Palatine  clung  fast.     Indeed 

Not  few  the  reasons  are  why  he  should  thankful  be 

To  Franz.     Now,  then,  it  was  in  this  that  chance 

Did  favor  me  to-day.    The  task  was  hard; 

But  finally  he  yielded  to  the  fear 

I  conjured  up  in  him,  his  interest 

As  Prince  as  well.  We,  then,  three  Princes — I, 

The  Palatine  and  Hesse's  Philip — made 

To-day  a  compact — 
Card.  'Gainst  Franciscus? 

Arch.    'Tis  not  so  called,  but  is  so  meant.    In  all 

Appearance  have  we  an  olden  treaty  but 

Renewed,  that  formerly  concluded  was 

'Twixt  Hesse,  Treves  and  the  Palatinate; 

A  treaty  of  defence  that  binds  us  three 

Not  only  to  protect  the  one  the  other, 

But  also  binds  each  one  no  peace  to  make 

Till  all  the  tjjree  agree. 
Card..    [Significantly.]  I  understand  the  plan. 

Arch.     Now,  this  is  what  I  mean.     Whatever  Franz 

May  undertake,  myself  I  throw  across 

His  way — the  forces  of  us  three  along 

With  mine.     The  danger  thus  we  may  reduce 

Before  it  overtops  and  overwhelms  us. 
Card.    The  news  is  tall  that  you  report,  and  big 

The  fruit  may  be  that  from  its  lap  may  leap. 
Arch.     In  times  as  evil  as  the  present,  one 

As  great  things  trifles  oft  accepts,  esteeming 

As  actual  help  what  yet  is  but  a  ray  of  hope. 
Card.    You're  right.    The  times  are  evil.    Never  yet 


8$  J'RANZ  VON  SICKINGEI^. 

The  Church  has  been  so  hard  pressed,  never  yet 
Such  dangers  threatened  even  her  palladium 
As  now  they  do.    That  which  these  days  will  be 
Delivered  of,  the  fruit  whose  seed's  now  sown 
At  large,  it  threats  the  downfall  of  the  Church. 

Arch.    To  whom  speak  you?    To  one  whose  hair  the  course 
Of  these  last  years  has  painted  white!     That  fruit 
No  longer  needs  to  grow  or  ripen.    No. 
It  ripened  stands  in  fullest  strength.     If  Luther 
Still  further  inroads  should  succeed  to  make; 
If  sv/ift  destruction  do  not  swiftly  overtake  him — 
The  Vatican  will  sink,  a  heap  of  ruins! 

Card.    Is't  Luther  that  such  fears  fills  you  ;with? 

Arch.    Who  else?    What  other  than  this  demon  can 

You  mean,  who  these  four  years  with  strokes  that  grow 
In  boldness  has  assailfed  us,  the  realm 
Disturbed,  and  makes  recruits  in  our  own  ranks, 
In  ev'ry  class  makes  friends?     Four  years,  and  still 
Unpunished  goes! 

Card.  Leave  us  alone  for  that! 

This  Luther  perish  shall.    He  shall  and  must — 
But  yet  the  real  danger  comes  not  from. 
Nor  will  it  die  with  him. 

Arch.  Oh,  underrate 

Him  not!     Do  not  yourself  deceive.     This  is 
No  heresy.    This  time  the  problem  is 
Not  a  Savonarola  or  an  Arnold 
To  oppose!     The  German  spirit  is  in  arms 
Against  us.    Luther  is  its  standard  bearer 
And  battles  at  its  head! 

Card.     I  hold  him  as  you  do.    And  yet  the  danger 
Looks  not  so  near  to  me,  as't  does  to  you — 
And  just  for  that,  perhaps,  but  all  the  greater. 
Uneasy  are  you  at  the  uncertainty 
Which  side  the  Emperor  will  take.     Also 
The  leaning  towards  Luther  of  the  nobles 
And  many  a  Prince  alarmeth  you.    The  fact 
You  overlook — our  strength  lies  in  the  masses*  heart. 

Arch.    Just  there  is  where  he  threatens  it! 

Card.      The  task  is  greater  than  he  could  encompass. 
What  took  a  thousand  years  to  slowly  spread. 
To  entwine  itself  and  one  become  with  man's 
Acquired   views,   his   feelings,   habits,    and 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEK  til 

Unconscious  does  pervade  his  ev'ry  thought — 

Think  you  all  that  could  really  succumb 

To  this  new  and  itself  destroying  doctrine, 

Which  Faith  on  Sense,  and  Sense  on  Faith  would  bank? 

Which  rests  upon  the  witness  of  the  mind, 

And  yet  would  bind  it  to  a  word  that's  dead? 

Which  takes  a  hook  as  sent  from  God,  and  yet 

Will  dare  the  same  at  will  to  interpret? 

Which  grace  and  scrutiny,  two  opposites. 

Together  jumbles  seeking  to  combine? 

Ne'er  from  a  doctrine  that  to  heaven  looks. 

Need  her  death-blow  the  Church  to  apprehend. 

So  long  as  men  believe,  they  will  believe  in  us  I 
Arch.    You  trust,  then,  in  the  Church's  immortality? 

Speak  ever  thus!     A  hallowed  certainty 

Your  words  my  mind,  with  worry  worn,  infuse. 
Card.     [Thoughtfully.']    You  used  th'  expression   immortality? 

In  that  word's  folds  lurk  grim  Medusa-heads, 

That  turn  to  stone  whom  in  the  folds  would  spy. 
Arch. — I  pray  you  speak.    Express  yourself  in  fullf 

And  do  not  palter  in  a  double  sense, 

Admitting  danger,  then  denying  it. 
Card.    Do  I  deny  it?  Yet's  Luther  not  the  name! 

Its  source  I  spy  in  quite  another  spring. 

The  foe  at  our  very  breast  lies  nestled. 

And  we,  th'  Italian  Princes  of  the  Church, 

We  nourish  it  with  our  very  blood. 

Accursed  be  the  Danite  gift  that  us 

The  Moslem  gave!     When  with  the  city's  fall. 

The  city  of  Constantine,  the  fleeing  Greeks 

Arrived,  transplanting,  'mong  us  spreading 

The  ruins  of  fheir  Arts  and  Sciences — 

That  was  the  evil's  start!  With  baneful  fascination  seized, 

Upon  its  neck  hung,  God-intoxicated, 

The  Bembos,  Medicis,  the  flow'r  of  all  Italy ; 

The  serpent  young  they  suckled  into  strength; 

And  from  th'  eternal  laws,  with  beauty's  lines 

Instinct,  there  flowed  a  sense  of  Now  and  Here  on  Earth.     Of 

A  nobler  mankind  vague  forebodings  streamed 

Into  the  breasts  of  the  believers  in  Hereafter, 

At  first  our  handmaid,  all  the  surer  us  to  trick. 

From  Raphael's  Madonnas  there  peers  forth 

Old  heathendom's  superb-divine  grimace; 


St  i'RANZ.VON  SICKINaEN. 

And  swellingly  a  dispensation  new 

Is  preached  by  Titian's  flesh-tints!   Out  to  all 

The  peoples  went  the  impulse  by  us  given — 

In  you  its  sanction  finding.     Reuchlin's  struggles 

Revealed  at  last  the  impulse  new  that  moved  the  world. 

Around  you  look !     Say,  who,  of  Luther,  are  the  props  ? 

Was't  among  the  friars'  ranks  this  friar's  quarrel 

Its  first  breath  drew,  or  found  its  first  support? 

The  Huttens,  Crotuses,  Erasmus  and  Reuchlin — 

'Tis  they  who  greet  it  with  a  clam'rous  joy. 

The  Humanists  this  great  league  styles  itself, 

By  its  own  name  its  secret  letting  out. 

A  new  Evangel  of  Mankind — behold 

The  kernel  hidden  in  this  Proteus  that 

Belligerent  itself  against  us  fiings. 

With  Luther  but  its  first  and  quickly  vanished  slough! 

And  just  the  pressure  of  our  own  resistance 

Promotes  the  sloughing  process.    Slough  is  cast  off  after  slough; 

It  waxes  in  the  transformation;  and  it  stands 

There  in  the  fi'ry  glow  of  its  own  light! 

Across  the  world  it  cries:  "  'Tis  I!"  The  hearts  of  men  it  seizes; 

Writes  Here  on  Earth,  Fruition  on  its  banner ; 

Tears  down  the  heavens;  wildly  roars  through  space 

And  time,  each  newly  spied-out  law  of  Nature, 

Each  find  concealed  in  musty  history. 

Into  a  bolt  together  welding,  hurling 

Into  the  holiest  of  our  creed,  and  raising 

An  Evangel  of  Man  with  resoluteness 

Against  that  of  the  Son  of  Man! 

It  then  grows  hot!     Our  pinions  droop;  from  us 

The  peoples  then  their  faces  turn  away 

Towards   the   newly   conquered  bride — Reality, 

With  ardor  rushing  in  her  luscious  arms. 

Before   Fruition's   ruddy   sun  the   dim 

Star  of  Beyond  grows  pale,  it  fades  away,  then 

Draws  nigh  the  night  of  our  theology! 

[He  utters  the  last  lines  as  if  pursuing  a  visio7i  ivith  hia 
eyes,    and    then    continues    with    upwards    outstretched 
arms.'] 
But  no!     How  wonderful  your  ways  are,  Lord! 
Athwart  the  darkness  unto  light  you  lead  us; 
Turn  into  triumph  that  which  bodes  destruction. 
Like  unto  a  slave  must  threat'ning  storms  themselves 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  63 

The  throne  thus  forge  that  safer  carries  us. 
Arch.    Your  eyes  irradiate,  and  over  this 

Earth's  face  your  spirit,  God-raised,  takes  its  flight. 

What  lies  at  hand  I  clearly  see,  but  to 

Your  eyes  the  Future's  book  lies  open  wide. 

Unveil  that  which  to  you  the  spirit  shows. 

How  can  the  threat'ning  danger  bring  us  victory, 

Make  safe  that  which  our  downfall  does  portend  ? 
Card.    What  now  gives  pain  and  loads  our  mind  with  care 

Is  our  Princes'  hostile  attitude, 

Who,  envious  of  our  power  and  failing  to 

Perceive  the  demon,  that  they  unsuspecting  nurse. 

Array  themselves  upon  our  en'mies'  side. 

And  long  still  will  this  trying  trial  last. 

But  when  of  time  the  cycle  is  complete. 

When  that  fell  hour  of  danger  has  drawn  nigh. 

The  Kingdom  of  the  Anti-Christ,  announced  before. 

When,  wanton,  on  its  own  foundation. 

The  Human  Mind  itself  has  planted — then 

The  simultaneous  hostile  blow  will  merge 

The  Bishop's  crosier  and  the  Prince's  scepter ! 

The  turn-about  will  then  set  in — anew 

The  temp'ral   sword  the   Church's  willing  arm 

Will  be;  repentful  to  the  mother's  lap 

It  will  return;  and  then,  a  doul)le  chain. 

Inseparable  in  its  iron  embrace, 

The  temp'ral  and  spiritual  power 

Will  strangling  wind  itself  around  the  head 

Of  th'  Anti-Christ,  the  self-poised  Human  Mind! 

Then   stand   we   safe   in   all   the   fullness  of 

New  might,  and  in  proud  Reason's  corpse  new  root 

The  Church's  splendor  strikes,  from  thence  new  sap  inhales. 
Arch.    Amen!  does  shout  my  heart  for  evermore! 

[The  curtain  doses."] 


M  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

ACT  III. 

Scene  I. — Ulrich's  room  at  the  Ebernherg,  fitted  out  with  books  cmd 

arms. 

Vlrich.    [Holding  in  his  hand  an  open  letter  that  he  is  staring  into  in 

wild  amazement.] 
And  Luther  is  pronounced  under  the  ban 
At  Worms!     Along  with  him  his  followers, 
And  all  who  give  him  shelter.    Oh,  Charles,  oh,  German  realm — 
The  worst  that  happen  could  has  come  to  pass! 

[Panises  and  again  looks  into  the  letter.] 
Th'  Elector  Frederick  himself  steps  back 
Afraid;  has  seized  him  secretly,  and  to 
The  Wartburg  sent  for  safe  concealment. 
For  fear  in  sight  of  th'  Emp'ror's  wrath  he  could 
No  longer  free  and  openly  protect  him! 

{Throws  himself  into  an  arm-choAr.] 
Oh,  Germany!     Oh,  poor  fatherland! 
Our  last  hope  thus  is  wrecked!     Your  star  of  freedom. 
That  o'er  your  firmament  refulgent  rose 
Unto  my  eyes,  sets  pale,  and  once  again 
The  dark  night  of  before  upon  us  closes. 

[Pauses  looking  blank  before  him.] 
Its  raven  plumage,  flutt'ring  jeeringly. 
It  shroud-like  spreads  its  pinions  o'er  the  land. 
And  silence  once  more  reigns  beneath  the  wing 
Of  death — the  silence  of  the  tomb! 

[Covers  his  face  with  his  hands,  and  resumes  after  a  pause 
with  deeply  moved  voice.] 
Where  can  there  hope  be  left  when  the  Emp'ror 
Himself,  in  Romish  hands  becomes  of  death 
An  instrument,  the  death-blow  deals  the  people's 
Heart?     W'here  is  hope  when  e'en  the  mighty  Elector 
Despairingly  withdraws  ? 

[Is  lost  for  a  while  in  gloomy  thoughts ^  then,  jumping  from 
his  seat.] 

Where?     In  him. 
The  Nation!     He  will  rally  it  around 
Him.     He  it  is  who  can  and  must.    Aye,  must! 
'Tis  he  alone  can  yet  a  saviour  be. 
Up  and  away  to  him!     To  hurl  in  that 
Heroic  soul  the  torch  that  burns  my  own. 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  66 

And  set  his  German  mind  ablaze  with  rage! 
He  will  with  mighty  hand  the  fire-brand  hurl 
Into  the  land,  and  kindle  the  wild  flame 
Whence,  Phoenix-like,  shall  Germany  emerge! 

[He  utters   the   last   lines   icith  incredsing   animation  and 
rushes  toicards  the  door,  hut  stops  reflecting.] 
And  have  you  well  reflected  what  you  contemplate? 
Your  friend  would  you  in  such  a  danger  thrust, 
To  a  risky  struggle  drive  that  ruin  fetch ; 
Perchance,  his  father's  gloomy  fate  recall? 

[Pauses,  and  then  proceeds  in  a  quandary.] 
May  your  restless  soul,  entangling  on 
Its  own  path  what  him  lovingly  approach. 
Expose  the  friend's  head  in  th'  uncertain  game? 

[Pauses  again.] 
But  why  with  petty  doubts,  of  him  unworthy, 
To  waver  now  and  difficulties  raise! 
No  choice  we  have  when  duty  bids.    With  us 
The  power  lies  to  achieve;  the  measure 
Of  what  we  achieve,  the  duty,  none  the  less. 
Imperiously  prescribM  are  to  man. 
He  can  achieve — his  duty,  hence,  it  is. 
Had  I  ten  lives,  I'd  stake  them  all  the  ten ! 
And  dare  I  from  my  friend  expect  aught  less? 
And  if  we  fail,  the  newly  awakened  life 
Of  our  land  in  blood  being  drowned,  what  worth 
Could  life  then  have  for  me,  or  yet  for  him? 
Before  such  choice,  where's  room  for  hesitation! 
If  we  succeed,  then  Freedom's  germ  is  saved, 
W^hence  shoot  on  shoot  shoots  off;  and  e'en  if 
Achievement's  highest  notch  be  not  attained, 
The  nation's  rum  still  he  may  avert. 

[Uttering  the  last  lines  loith  increasing  warmth,  he  rushes 
towards  the  door.  Before  reaching  it,  the  door  opens  and 
Marie  enters  with  a  took  in  her  hand.] 

Scene  II. — Ulbich  and  Maeie. 

Marie.    It  is.  Sir  knight,  the  hour  now  when  you 
The  ancient  poets  in  our  German  tongue 
Have  pleased  to  render  me.    Not  with  the  songs 
That  are  your  own  you're  satisfied  to  charm  us — 
The  noble  thoughts,  once  culled  by  Rome's  and  Hellas'  bards. 


Wl  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

The  home-bred  girl  you  have  disclosed,  the  blossoms  of 

All  olden  days,  all  nations,  into  a  garland  weaving. 

Whose  fragrance  sweet  our  souls  to  a  higher  world 

Intoxicated  raises. 
Ulrich.     [Who  at  the  sight  of  Marie  had  first  stood  stock-still,  and 
then  stepped  back  a  few  paces.] 

Oh,  God,  and  yet  another  trial! 
Marie,  You  spoke? 

[She  looks  at  him  more  attentively,  and  is  frightened  at  his 
appearance.] 

Sir  knight,  what  ails  you?     Speak!   You  seem  disturbed. 

Unhinged;  your  eyes,  aflame,  roam  wild  about. 

I  never  have  thus  seen  you.     For  the  love 

Of  God,  what  ails  you,  Sir?    I  pray  you  speak! 
Ulrich.    What  torture!     Oh,  what  horrid  fate  is  mine! 

Her  sire,  the  father  of  the  well-beloved. 

Shall  I  expose  to  ruin  and  distress. 

Herself,  perchance,  an  orphan  make? 
Marie.     [Who  has  been  regarding  him  with  increasing  attention  and 
alarm.]  You  do 

Not  answer?     Ails  you  aught?     Art  angry  at  me? 

You  still  are  silent,  knight?     What  act  of  mine 

Deserved  such  treatment  at  your  hand? 
Ulrich.  I  pray — 

Your  pardon — noble  maid — momentous  matters — 

Affliction  dire  engage  my  time  to-day. 

[Aside.]    Oh,  did  she  know  the  tortures  of  my  soul! 

Oh,  could  she  read  within  my  bleeding  heart 

The  sentiments  I  feel  for  her — and  what 

To  her  undoing  I  design ! 
Marie.  Aifliction, 

Is't  that  you  said?    What  can  it  be?    I  beg  of  you! 

It  cuts  me  to  my  very  soul  to  see 

You,   suffering  thus,  before  me  standing  there. 
Ulrich.    If  she  her  tone  but  changed.    Oh,  did  she  know 

How  her  mild  voice  my  heart  in  pieces  cuts! 

I — can  no  more  what  still  I  must! 
Marie.     Has  some  affliction  sudden  smitten  you, 

Confide  it  unto  me!     That  gives  relief. 

You  surely  know  to  you  I  friendly  feel — 

I,  therefore,  ask  my  share  of  what  afflicts  you. 

Myself  and  father  faithfully  will  help 

You  bear  it  I 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  57 

Ulrich,     [Who  has  been  visibly  struggling  with  himself^  now  reso- 
lutely."^ 
Your  pinions  free!    Shake  off  with  mighty  stroke 
The  body's  idleness,  the  natal   sin 
Hereditary  with  the  race  of  man! 

{Rushes  to  the  door,  when  it  opens  and  Oecolampadius  en- 
ters.] 

Scene  III. — The  former;  Oecolampadius. 

Ulrich,     [Seizing  Oecolampadius'  hand  and  stepping  back  again,] 

Oh,  pious  Sir,  Oh,  reverend 

Oecolampadius!     It  hits  you  as  myself. 

Have  you  the  overpow'ring  sad  news  heard? 
Oec,     [Sorrowfully  shaking  his  head.] 

I  know  it  all.     I  come  just  now  from  Franz. 

Who  imparted  it  to  me. 
Ulrich.     [Hurriedly.]  And  what  says  he? 

Oec.    He  nothing  said.     Upon  his  forehead  lay 

The  solemn  earnestness  of  silence  deep. 

But  to  my  chamber  I  betook  myself, 

My  overrunning  heart  before  our  God 

To  empty,  and  in  prayer  to  seek  strength. 

Oh,  that  this  day's  cup  we  should  have  to  quaff! 
Ulrich.     [With  animation.] 

Despair  not!     There's  nothing  lost  as  yet. 

No  Emp'ror  yet  shall,  with  his  fiat,  violate 

Our  Nation's  stronghold.    German  hearts  still  sit 

In  German  breasts,  and  our  arms  still  own 

The  cunning  of  their  swords  to  swing!      What  now 

Oppresses  you  will  soon  removfed  be. 

[Moves  with  long  strides  towards  the  door  but  is  held  hack 
by  Oecolampadius.] 
Oec.     How,  Sir,  do  I  correctly  understand? 

You  can  not  mean  against  th'  Imperial  Majesty 

To  aim  at  a  revolt?    The  doctrine  pure 

Of  th'  Evangel  with  earthly  force  to  stain  ? 

Does't  need  of  that?     Do  you  believe  what's  holy. 

The  light  of  Truth  and  Reason,  that  to  us 

Has  given  been,  could  ever  in  the  course 

Of  time  succumb  to  Error,  and  could  not 

By  its  own  force  the  upperhand  retain? 
Ulrich.     [Still  held  back  by  Oecolampadius,  takes  a  few  steps  hackf 
and  passionately.] 


58  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

My  worthy  Sir!     You  ill  acquainted  are 

With  history.  You're  right — 'tis  Reason  that 

Its  contents  constitutes,  its  form  is  ever — Force! 

[Seeks  again  to  escape,  hut  is  again  prevented  hy  Oecolam- 

padiuSj  who  steps  in  his  way.'\ 
Oec.    Reflect,  Sir  knight,  would  you  our  faith  of  Love 

With  bloody  weapons  desecrate?     Would  you — 
Ulrich.     [Partly  nettled  and  with  increasing  heat.l 
My  worthy  Sir!     Think  better  of  the  sword! 
A  sword,  for  freedom  swung  on  high,  that.  Sir, 
The  Word  Incarnate  is  of  which  you  preach; 
It  is  the  God,  born  of  Reality. 
Christianity  was  by  the  sword  extended — 
The  sword  was  the  baptismal  waters,  that 
The  Charles  we  still  with  wonder  name  the  Great, 
Baptized  Germania  with;  the  sword  smote  down 
Old  heathendom ;  the  sword  the  Saviour's  tomb 
Redeemed!     And  further  back,  it  was  the  sword 
That  Tarquin  drove  from  Rome,  the  sword  that  back 
From  Hellas  Xerxes  whipped,  and  for  our  Arts 
And  Sciences  plowed  up  the  ground.     It  was  the  sword 
That  David,  Samson,  Gideon  labored  with. 
Thus,  long  ago,  as  well  as  since,  the  sword 
Achieved  the  glories  told  by  history; 
And  all  that's  great,  as  yet  to  be  achieved, 
Owes,  in  the  end,  its  triumph  to  the  sword! 

[Forces  his  way  out  while  Oeoolampadius  vainly  seeks  <o 

restrain  him.] 

Scene  IV. — Oeoolampadius,  Marie. 

Oec.    He  rushes  off!    Young  lady,  follow  him; 

Oh,  calm  his  turbulent  designs,  that,  wrought 

Up  by  too  just  a  pain,  are  blinding  him. 

Bring  back  the  knight  to  calmer  thoughts  and  faith. 
Marie.     I  fain  will,  rev'rent  Sir!      I'll  follow  him. 

I'll  seek  him  in  the  garden,  where  'tis  his  wont, 

W^hen  overpow'red  with  brooding  thoughts,  to  dwell.         [Exit, 
Oec.   [Alone.']   Oh,  darksome  days!     Much  mischief  I  forsee, 

Much  guiltless  blood  at  ev'ry  corner  flowing! 

Oh,  Lord,  with  just  hands  turn  it  on  the  heads 

Of  those  with  whom  the  heavy  guilt  does  lie. 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  60 

Scene  V. — Franz  von  Sickingen's  cabinet.    Feanz  steps  in  from  a  side 
room  loith  two  open  letters  in  his  hand,  and  lays  them  on  a  desk. 
Later  von  Hutten. 

Franz,    Two  letters  contents-laden!     Oh,  how  diff'rent 
And  yet  upon  the  same  point  running  out! 
Strasburg  and  Charles — 
Charles  and  Strasburg — both  messages 
So  opposite — and  yet  the  two 
Like  two  threads,  that,  by  spirits'  unseen  hands, 
In  one  web  magically  absorb  the  one  the  other. — 

[Pauses.] 
Charles!     Charles!     You  ill  my  trust  have  verified. 
The  ban  'gainst  Luther!     All  hope  now  is  dashed 
From  your  side!     Of  this  realm  th'  Emperor, 
With  th*  Empire's  foes  you  common  cause  have  made! 

[Walks  meditatively  up  and  down.] 
And  Strasburg — bravely  have  you  wrought. 
My  old  and  sturdy  Sloer!     You  send  me  here 
The  compact  with  the  great  Strasburgian.     Of 
Lorraine  the  duke  is  long  since  joined  to  me — 
The  duke  of  Bouillon  too.     With  Strasburg  now 
The  whole  of  th'  Upper  Rhine  is  not  alone 
Made  certain  to  my  side,  a  powerful 
Example  it  will  be;  and  Swabia's, 
Bavaria's  and  Franconia's  cities  all 
Will  join  me  readily. 

[Pauses  and  cogitates.] 
Distress's  pressure  worst,  resistance's 
Best  means — they  both  at  one  hour  meet  in  my 
Hands  fatally,  as  if  upon  some  demon's  call! — 

[Takes  again  a  few  steps  in  the  room,  lost  in  thought.] 
In  twain,  Charles,  by  your  act  you've  torn  forever 
Whatever  bond — the   Nation's   Saviour 
I  meant  of  you  to  make,  the  realm's  restorer; 
With  aching  heart  I  saw  you  spurn  the  offer. 
Not  yet  you  satisfied  would  be  with  cold 
Indulgence — th'  extreme  you  dealt  to  us. 
But  just  from  the  extremest  peril  can 
The  extremest  safety  unto  us  be  born! 

[Pauses  and  then  starts  from  the  thoughts  in  which  he  was 
lost.] 
This  way,  or  that! — Yourself  the  iron  dice 
Have  cast  to  me  and  you.    Firm  and  without 


60  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

Uncertainty  my  will  now  rises,  and 

Serene  peace  thrones  within  by  breast,  as  only 

A  purpose  clean  is  able  to  engender. 

[Ulrich  von  Hutten  enters.] 
There  comes  my  Hutten!     His  pure  soul  shall  be 
My  compass  to  remove  the  last  still  lingering  doubts. 

[Turns  to  Ulrich,  who,  with  troubled  mien  and  intently  gaz- 
ing at  Franz,  has  remained  standing  before  him,  and  pro- 
ceeds,  cheerfully.} 
My  friend!    The  clouds  of  melancholy  somber 
Are  gathered  on  your  brow.     You  seem  disturbed! 
Ulrich.    You  know  the  weighty  news  from  Worms? — 
Fra/nz.  Indeed  I 

Unfortunately  I  know  it  but  too  well. 
A  sad  tale  'tis.    But  let  it  not  depress  you. 
Come,  I  will  tell  you  an  amusing  thing, 
Your  somber  mien  to  cheer  again  with  mirth. 
Ulrich.    Amusing  ? 

Franz.  Yes,  indeed!     There  is  a  feud  on,  Ulrich! 

Give  me  your  ear.    The  Archbishop  of  Treves, 
Elector  Richard,  Luther's   bitt'rest   foe — 
The  same,  who,  in  exchange  for  French  gold  crowns, 
Th'  Imperial  crown  to  Francis  would  have  sold, 
Had  I  not  put  a  mighty  spoke  into 
His  wheel — has  given  me  the  handle  for 
A  merry  treat. — You  listen  not ! 
Ulrich.     [Starting  up.]  I  do! 

Franz.    You  know  that  Hilchen  Lorch  has  long  at  outs 
With  Treves'  Lord  been,  and  gave  him  notice.     Then 
He  captured  two  of  Treves'  most  noted  men. 
And  held  them  prisoners.     Desiring  both 
To  be  set  free,  their  umpire  me  they  chose. 
And  I  the  matter  settled  so  that  they 
A  ransom  had  to  pay.     They  pledged  themselves 
Upon  the  Bible.    Lorch,  then,  on  my  bond, 
Tlie  two  allowed  to  go.    But  now  the  priest, 
Th'  Archbishop,  exempts  them  from  their  oath. 
Inhibiting  both  payment  and  arrest. — 
The  priest  shall  pay  us  through  the  nose.     You  will 
A  chance  have  to  shake  off  your  melancholy. 
But,  help  me  God,  you  listen  not! 
Ulrich.     [Seriously.]  Excuse 

Me  if,  j\ist  now,  when  shipwreck  threats  the  realm's 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN*.  <1 

Great  cause,  and  shelterless  upon  the  waves 

The  Nation's  tossed,  such  slight  affairs  affect  me  little. 

[Pauses,  and  continues  with  v>armth.] 
And  should  not  Sickingen  so  also  affected  be? 
Could  it  be  possible  you  should  delight, 
At  these  times*  dire  stress,  your  strength  away 
To  fritter  on  a  petty  feud?    How,  Sickingen! 
Could  you  contented  rest  within  your  burgs 
To  idle  lie,  occasionally  a  lamb  from 
The  greedy  wolf's  devouring  jaws  to  tear? 
You  shelter  me,  as  Reuchlin  once  you  did. 
Whom  does  your  shelter  fail?    Aquila,  Hauschein,  Bucer — 
How  could  I  number  all  the  freedom-preachers, 
Th'  oppressed,  who  in  your  burgs,  from  priestly  hate 
And  tyranny,  from  Romish  violence, 
A  safe  asylum  found!    But  is  that  all 
The  public  stress  may  look  for  from  your  giant  strength! 
Will  you,  intent  upon  the  shelter  of 
The  individual  lose  from  sight  the  greater  whole? 
Is't  that  alone  the  stagg'ring  weight,  beneath 
Which  bends  Germania's  freedom,  killing  and 
Debasing,  gnawing  at  our  people's  marrow, 
Consuming  our  people's  patrimony, 
With  ban  and  papal  bull  its  limbs  benumbing. 
The  greatness  of  our  realm  browbeating,  and 
The  Nation's  upward  flight  towards  the  sense 
Of  Freedom,  which  we  wakened  up,  in  one 
Death-dealing  embrace  body  and  soul  at  once 
Garrotting, — is  that  all  the  Nation's  dismal  plight 
May  from  her  foremost  hero  dare  expect? 

[Pauses  and  continues  with  vxirmth.} 
Look,  Franz,  'tis  only  little  souls  that  lag 
Behind  their  powers;  great  men  all  expend 
Their  fullest  faculties  in  a  great  cause. 
And  when,  within  the  trembling  scale,  his  strength — 
Brought  to  the  first  touch,  measured  is  with  his 
Great  aims — the  tremor  feels  of  hesitance, 
Then,  confident  does  upward  swing  himself, 
A  demi-god;  behind  him  leaves  dust's  doubts; 
Burns  up  in  holy  inspiration's  fire 
His  earthy  part ;  and  storms,  a  Titan-like, 
Olympus  e'en!    Thus  ancient  legends  tell 
About  the  Titan  battles,  fought  eternally 


62  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

So  long  as  there  are  men,  and  eke  a  purpose  great! 

Franz.     Speak  plainly,  Ulrieh.     What's  your  speech's  aim? 

Ulrich.    You  plainness  wish?    And  yet  I  spoke  to  you 
Of  our  country's  public  stress,  that  but 
Too  plainly  this  broad  realm  in  sorrow  steeps. 
So  that  each  sense  to  sight  is  turned  to  see  it! 
I  must  declare,  it  is  an  odd  mood  that 
To-day  I  find  you  in!     Not  thus  erstwhile. 
When  of  our  common  cause  we  used  to  speak. 
You  acted,  Franz!     My  faith — ^j^ou  seem,  to-day. 
Quite  frosty,  Franz! 

Franz.  You  think  so? 

Ulrich.  Be  it  what  it  may. 

That  for  the  moment  is  yourself  from  you 
Yourself  depriving — quickly  I  shall  call 
You  back  unto  yourself.     That  cold  tone  lay 
Aside.     Enkindle  and  inflame  your  will 
By  proudly  contemplating  your  own  strength. 
Who  stands  like  you,  Franz,  in  the  German  lands? 
On  you  their  hopes  the  friends  of  the  new  doctrine  pin; 
On  you  the  eyes  are  fastened  of  the  Nation's  ranks  j 
The  whole  nobility  their  leader  in  you  see; 
The  towns  seek  your  alliance,  follow  confident. 
Encouraged,  when  you  lead,  by  your  great  name; 
On  you  alone  the  peasant  places  confidence. 
For  ever  have  you  been  a  rock  unto  the  weak. 
And  when  oppression  and  fell  violence 
With  wrath  his  heart  at  our  station  fills, 
'Tis  you  he  looks  to  in  his  hour  of  need. 
At  your  call,  pike  in  horny  hand,  from  all 
Around  a  peasant  army  bounds  to  life. 
When  in  the  open  field  the  "five-balls"  waves 
From  the  far  Danube,  from  Lorraine,  from  Belt, 
From  th'  Alpine  slopes,  where  he  in  martial  songs 
The  fame  of  your  prowesses  sings,  comes  forth 
Th'  enraptured  lansquenet,  and  rallies  to  your  flag. 
The  princes  fear  you.    The  hostile  camp 
Itself  the  Counter-Emperor  have  dubbed  you. 
Thus  homage  rend'ring  to  your  power  e'en 
When  they  on  insult  are  intent.     Not  so  ? 

Franz.    'Tis  as  you  say.    'Tis  partly  so.    But  while 
The  oak  majestically  its  shadow  spreads, 
Shall  I  the  axe  apply  to  the  strong  trunk? 


FKANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  63 

Vlrich.    In  power  lies  the  greatest  boon  of  heaven — 

If  it  be  put  for  a  great  cause  to  use ; 

A  wretched  toy  when,  used  as  tinsel  merely. 

The  arm  it  lames  to  which  it  is  confided. 

How?     Have  you  all  your  days  your  hard  life  vexed 

To  make  it  great,  and,  for  its  reputation's  sake. 

In  hundred  hard-fought  battles  hacked  your  limbs, 

In  hundred  feuds  it  painfully,  increased. 

With  high  and  low,  with  noble  and  plebeian, 

Your  name's  fame  conquered  inch  by  inch — and  all 

In  order  now,  when,  full-blown,  it  your  head 

A  brilliant  halo  encircles,  darts  your  fame's 

Rays  far  and  wide  in  burg  and  hut,  to  give 

It  up  a  hopeless  prey  unto  despair? 

In  vain  vagaries  fondly  now  yourself 

To  fondle? — CursM  be  such  power!     Aye, 

The  pow'r  of  God  Himself  were  sinful  vanity 

Had  He  not  turned  it  to  creation! 

[After  a  pause  and  with  greater  moderation.} 

And  is  it  possible  you  otherwise 

Could  think?     Have  not  yourself  with  me  the  tracts 

Prepared  that  mightily  the  peasant's  heart  stir  up, 

Intended  to  announce  yourself  the  head 

And  leader  in  the  fray?     Of  Karsthans  think — 

Of  many  a  spark  that  we  to  flame  have  fanned! 

Can,  at  the  moment  critical,  your  mind 

Have  changed?    Your  own  icill — that  which  I  a  word 

Of  God  have  ever  prized,  unshakable, 

Unchangeable — could   you't   no   longer   will? 

No,  Franz,  impossible ! —  You're  silent  still? 
Franz.     I  silence  keep  because  one  pleasure  feels. 

Through  lips  as  eloquent  his  own  heart  clear 

To  see  within. 
Vlrich,  You're  now  yourself  again! 

Franz.    You  err.    Am  now  no  nearer  to  you  than 

I  was  at  start;  and  at  the  start  I  was 

No  further  oflF.    But  speak.    Show  not  the  goaly 

But  also  show  the  path.     So  closely  tangled 

On  earth  are  path  and  goal,  that  each  with  th'  other 

Their  places  ever  change,  and  other  paths  forthwith 

Another  goal  set  up. 
Vlrich.    The  path  is  obvious;  only  one  can  stead! 

Your  banner  fly ;  an  army  raise ;  around 


M  Man^z  von  sickiMeit. 

You  call  ybut  allies;  then,  in  arms,  demand 

From  th*  Emperor  the  freedom  of  religion! 

The  large  towns  all  will  gather  'round  your  standard) 

The  Princes  even,  those  inclined  to 

The  doctrine  new,  though  envious  of  yourself. 

Are  bound  support  to  lend,  at  least  could  not  oppose. 

Franz.    The  Emp'ror's  abdication  in  religion — 
Is't  that  you  mean  that  I  should  conquer? 
It  is  just  that  that  I  will  not! — ^Have  care. 
Lest  on  such  path  the  game's  stake  swallow  up 
The  gains. 

Ulrich.  And  what  price  were  too  high  to  pay 

Where  freedom  of  the  mind  at  issue  is? 

Franz.     [Rising  and  deliberately. '\ 

Till  now  has  Rome  our  realm  but  only  ruled — 
Shall  she  also  partition  it? 

[After  a  short  pause.]    You  know 
How  to  the  doctrine  new  I  am  attached. 
How  with  my  whole  soul  Rome  I  hate;  but  yet 
Am  I  no  creed's-doctor !    And  just  for  that. 
Especially  for  that,  I  hate  her — she 
The  greatness  of  our  realm  changed  to  decline ; 
The  Nation's  one-time  splendor  to  a  puny, 
A  wretched  shadow  dimmed;  the  pinions  clipped 
With  which  the  German  mind  sought  on  its  own 
Track  up  itself  to  raise!     From  the  fourth  Henry 
Down  to  the  second  Frederick,  where  was  there 
An  Emp'ror,  where  a  heart,  that  greatness  sought 
To  achieve  for  our  realm,  and  found  not  at 
His  heel  that  serpent  ?    Through  her  bishops  Rome 
Has  ruled  the  realm;  through  her  collections 
On   palliums,   annats,   dispensations,   she 
The  land  drained  dry;  her  bans  and  priestly  wiles 
The  princes  gave  in  hand  the  means,  pretexts 
Our  Emp'rors'  hands  to  weaken,  and  themselves 
As  autocrats  above  the  realm  to  raise; 
She  finally  has  so  degraded  us 

As  to  become  our  own  strong  neighbor's  laughing-stock- 
No  less  than  me,  that  ever  has  incens&d  you. 
And  that  is  what  you  wish  to  stop! 

Ulrich.    [Impetuously.]  My  blood, 

Its  ev'ry  drop  I'd  gladly  stake  on  that! 

Franz.    And  is  it  stopped  though  we  from  th'  Emperor 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  65 

The  freedom  conquer  for  the  doctrine  new? 

Would,  therefore,  Rome  less  powerfully  rule 

The  realm  through  her  priest-princes?     Would  the  land 

Be  drainM  less  within  the  papist  districts? 

Nay,  worse:     I  clearly  foresee  what  would 

Result.     Could  you  rest  satisfied  to  see 

The  doctrine  pure,  the  Word,  for  our  salvation 

Announced  to  us,  sunk  to — a  Princes^  privilege; 

Its  bound'ry  finding  at  each  dukedom's  frontier; 

And,  as  of  accident  the  whim  would  throw 

Unto  the  Pope  this  Prince,  to  Luther  that, 

To  win  or  to  succumb?     Would  you  the  common  cause 

Turn  into  a  rulers^  cause? 
TJlrich.     [To  himself.]  True!  But  too  true! 

Franz.    Nor  yet  is  all  this  yet  the  worst.    The  worst 

Still  comes ! 
Ulrich.     [Desperately.]    What  demon's  raven  eloquence 

Dwells  on  your  tongue  that  e'en  the  hope  of  life 

You  turn  to  death  within  me? 
Fra/nz.  True,  the  right 

Word  have  you  said!     Have  care  lest  we  ourselves, 

In  lieu  of  life,  the  death-blow  deal  the  Nation! 

Such  abdication  in  religion  parts 

Our  land  in  twain,  not  merely  in  two  parts — 

A  Romish  and  an  Evangelic — 'twould 

Be  torn  to  pieces  in  a  hundred  shreds! 

Dissevered  would  the  last  bond  be  that  still 

The  Emp'ror  and  the  realm  together  binds. 

A  Kaiser  then  each  Prince  on  his  domain  becomes! 
[Laughing  bitterly.] 

And  that's  the^  reason  of  their  friendship  for  the  doctrine  newl 

— You  know  in  what  esteem  I  hold  the  Princes; 

*Ti3  them,  next  to  the  Pope,  whom  most  I  hate. 

Abhor.    'Tis  they  who  are  the  real  foe 

Of  our  realm's  and  of  the  public  freedom. 

Concupiscent,  their  boundless-selfish  guild 

Its  greedy  claws  distends  at  ev'ry  rank's 

Respected  rights  across  the  Empire's  broad  domain. 

At  heart  they're  equally  the  foe  of  nobles, 

Of  townsmen  and  of  peasants.     If  they  now 

Hate  most  the  nobles,  seem  the  towns  to  favor. 

It  is  because  for  us  they  still  have  fear. 

The  moment  we  cease  dangerous  to  be, 


#  FKANZ  VON  SICKINGEK. 

How  soon,  the  towns  to  oppress,  on  our  side 
They'll  lean !     Ambition  only  dwells  within 
Their  hearts,  dead  to  the  common  weal,  and  swells 
Them  like  a  sponge,  the  public  safety's  life-sap 
Unto  itself  absorbing.     How!     Shall  I 
Myself  turn  into  a  bridge  for  their  malign 
Ambition?    'Gainst  the  Emp'ror's  majesty 
My  sword  for  such  a  purpose  draw?    This  great 
Empire,  that  once  did  rule  the  world,  and  whose 
Crown  still  is  thought  the  first  in  Christendom, 
Tom  up  into  a  hundred  bits,  at  them 
For  booty  throw? — May  God  preserve  us,  Ulrich! 
Then  would  we  stand  at  our  Nation's  grave. 
At  Germany's  and  at  the  German  mind'a 
Funereal  bier.    The  diggers  of  its  grave 
Would  we  then  be,  and  not  its  glad  awak'ners! 
You  wish  the  mind's  development  to  mightily  promote. 
And  do  you  think  that  if  the  realm  were  torn 
Into  a  thousand  strips,  and  nothing  but 
A  waste  of  large  and  small  proprietors 
Became,  there  could — amidst  such  landlordships. 
Capriciously  together  thrown,  and  greedy 
Of  rank,  each  its  own  aims  pursuing — 
A  great  mind  rise?    'Twere  an  illusion! 
No  longer  strikes  the  draft  of  history 
Across  such  small  proprietorships.    You  might 
As  well  a  storm  seek  to  unchain  within 
A  cup  of  water.     It  the  broad  expanses  loves. 
Where  it  may  freely  rage.    Then  would  have  dawned 
The  heyday  of  the  petty  trader,  who 
Knows  naught  above  his  petty  truck! 
All  intellectual  rage  would  shrink  and  shrivel; 
The  strictly  selfish,  nearest  only  hold; 
In  wretchedness  the  souls  would  rust;  and  down 
Would  sink  that  ancient  heroism,  that  mighty 
From  our  country's  history  resounds, 
That  once  the  breasts  of  heroes  moved,  that  in 
Our  ears  a  call  to  duty  clings; — with  it 
The  spirit  also  dies  away.     Oh,  never 
From  pigmies'  wombs  could  giant  souls  be  strained. 
Ulrich.    Franz,  do  you  of  your  people's  future  then 

Despair  ?    And  can  your  mouth  the  dark  fate  of  destruction 
Thus  o'er  the  Nation  cast? 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  6T 

Frofus.     [Deeply  moved.} 

I  sooner  of  my  own  salvation  would 

Despair  than  idly  of  the  fatherland 

Lose  hope!    Not  that  I  meant!  I  would  my  own 

Skin  gladly  take  to  market  for  the  great 

Cause,  for  the  true  weal  of  the  land.    What  we 

Desire  is  an  integral,  a  great 

And  powerful  Germany ;  the  wreck  of  all 

Priest-regiment;  a  complete  rupture  with 

The  Roman  system;  our  country's  church. 

And  only  one,  the  doctrine  pure;  the  old 

Communal  freedom  of  the  Germans; 

Destruction  of  the  Princes'  dwarf-regime. 

And  their  usurpM  intermediation; 

And,  resting  on  the  times*  potential  trend. 

Deep  casting  in  its  soul  our  roots,  to  raise 

One  Evangelic  head  as  Emp'ror  of 

Our  mighty  realm! — Behold,  it  is  but  your 

Own  soul  I  raise  a  mirror  to  your  face. 
Ulrich.     [Shrugging  his  shoulders.] 

True  is  the  picture.    But  can  you  as  much 

From  Charles  hope?    Never!  Never  will  he  start 

On  such  a  giant  enterprise!     Can  you 

Your  mind  amuse  with  sketching  fancy-pictures, 

Of  whose  reality  there  is  no  shadow? 

From  pious  wishes  no  help  comes  to  us. 
Franz.     [Slowly  and  with  emphasis.] 

On  Charles  to  still  hang  hope — ^that  were  insanity. 

No  more  of  him!     In  his  breast  Prince  and  priest 

The  Emperor  have  killed. 
Ulrich.     [Impatiently.] 

On  what,  on  whom,  then,  do  you  still  hang  hope? 

What  Prince — 
Franz.     [Interrupting.]  Forsooth,  on  no  Prince  either! 
Ulrich.    You,  locked-up  secret,  break  to  me  your  seal ! 

Not  on  this  rack,  I  pray  you,  keep  me  longer ! 

Your  brow  a  prodigy  announces,  meditates! 
Franz.    [After  walking  hack  and  forth  several  times  across  the  room^ 
remains  standing  pensively  before  Ulrich.] 

See  how  it  haps  that  small  things  oft  to  great 

Ones  lead,  and  just  through  their  trivial  cover. 

Like  unto  a  magic  hand-clasp,  means  become 

Whereby  man  may  the  greatest  ends  work  out, 


6d  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

And  chance  itself  to  fate's  decree  convert. 

— ^Recall  you  what  I  shortly  said  before, 

Anent  a  pending  feud  with  th'  Archbishop  of  Treves  T 

The  priest,  I  said,  forbade  his  townmen  both 

To  pay  or  to  return  to  prison. — Why, 

You  listen  not! 

Ulrich.  I  do!  I  do!  I  heard  it. 

Franz.    The  matter  now  reverts  to  me,  who,  on 
Their  prayers,  became  their  bondsman.    Now, 
Meseems,  I  thus  have  solid  ground  to  act — 
Against  th'  Elector  to  declare  war. 

Ulrich.     And  what  concerns  this  paltry  affair  our 
Great  cause? 

Franz.  'Tis  just  this  matter's  paltriness 

That  by  a  Providential  dispensation 
To  the  great  cause  the  vict'ry  gives!     I  draw 
With  armfed  force  'gainst  Treves,  and  none  will  in 
The  move  suspect  aught  but  an  ev'ry  day 
Occurrence — a  reprisal  for  a  sum. 
And  none,  except,  perhaps,  a  prescript  from 
The  Reichstag — ^helpless   slip   of   paper — will 
Th*  Elector  come  to  help.     Is  he  alone, 
One  half  of  my  own  forces  will  suffice 
To  take  the  town.     Then,  once  with  Treves  within 
^Ty  pow'r  th'  Elect'ral  hat,  torn  from  the  priest's 
Head,  I  then  boldly  clap  upon  my  own. 
Since  long,  the  temporalization  of 
Th'  Elect'ral  hats  has  been  the  deep-mouthed  cry, 
Throughout  the  land,  with  all  who  dearly  hold 
The  new  faith.  Then,  besides,  Charles  little  loves 
Th'  Elector.    Has  not  yet  th'  intended  trade 
With  France  forgot.    And  have  I  once  bagged  that 
Strategic  place — and  who  is  there  to  hinder  me? — 
My  whole  strength  then  I  can  deploy ;  call  all 
Our  friends  to  arms  around  me;  boldly,  then. 
The  dance  I  can  sustain  with  th'  Emperor 
And  realm. 

Ulrich.  It  would  a  hard  blow  be  to  Romet 

'Withal,  a  breach  for  th'  Evangelium !     Still — 

Franz.    Allow  me  that  I  finish.    Prologue  but 

It  was,  the  prelude  only  to  still  weightier  acts. 
Once  does  th'  Elect'ral  hat  this  brow  ornate — ^then — 

Ulrich,.     [Intently  follovnng  Franz.l 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  i 

Then?— 
Fra/nz.     [Draimng  close  to  Ulrich  and  in  a  loud  voice.^ 

Am  I  of  the  wood  that — Emperors  are  carvfed  from! 
[Ulrich  looks  dumbfounded;  after  a  short  pause  Franz  proceeds.'] 

I  know,  high  treason  are  my  words.  And  yet 

It  is  not  idle  vanity  that  lures  me. 

May  evil  overtake  me  if  I  be 

By  greed  to  greatness  lashed!  The  Nation's  rude 

And  dire  distress,  th'  imperious  mandate  of 

The  times  alone  impel  my  thought.    But  one 

Of  us  two  could  this  arduous  task  fulfill : 

Charles — or  myself !  I  see  no  third  who  could. 

How  would  I  not  have  wished  that  he  in  his 

Imperial  hand  the  task  had  seized — myself 

A  desp'rate  effort  made  to  enlist  his  heart. 

It  was  in  vain !  Deaf  to  his  Age's  call. 

To  Germany's  loud  plaint  for  freedom  dead, 

By  priests  and  Spanish  courtiers  ruled,  he  scornefl 

The  proffer! — Thus  I  manfully  myself 

Consign  unto  the  irksome  fate  decreed 

To  me.  Not  on  mysoli,  on  it  let  fall 

The  grave  responsibility.      Beyond 

My  duty  to  the  Eraperor  goes  far 

The  duty  that  the  Nation's  life,  the  cry 

Of  woe  that  now  goes  up  from  Grerman  freedom. 

The  threatened  ruin  of  the  fatherland 

Upon  me  lay !      'Twas  I  who  him  the  crown 

Secured.    In  that  a  strange  fate  I  perceive, 

A  double  warning  readily  revere — 

What  I  on  him  have  thrown  away,  away 

Again  to  take.-«-And  now,  my  friend,  I'm  ended  t 

If  you  another  path  to  the  same  goal 

Know  of,  speak!     Ready  am  I  to  strike  it. — 

*Tis  now  my  turn  to  ask:     You're  silent,  Ulrich! 
Ulrich.     [Solemnly.] 

I  silence  keep  because  my  soul  vibrates 

With  th'  hour's  overpowering  solemnity. 

How  great,  Oh,  hero,  stand  you  there  unveiled! 

This  hour  unto  your  holy  enterprise 

My  clean  heart  and  its  ev'ry  drop  of  blood 

I  consecrate!  And  though  recruits  and  troops 

I  can  not  to  your  camp  contribute,  yet 

Good  work  I'm  ready  for.  The  pen  shall  drum 


fd^  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

The  long  roll;  shall  the  people  fill  with  awe; 

Shall  bring  half  Germany  into  your  camp, 

The  moment  you  are  facfed  with  the  Emperor! 

A  giant  pinion  will  I  spread,  that,  eager. 

Shall  carry  you  to  your  triumphant  goal ! 

[They  rush  into  each  other's  arms,  and  a  while  remain  in  close 
emhrace.l 

And  when  will  start  the  feud  'gainst  Treves  ? 
Franz.     Equipped  am  I  without  delay  the  dance 

'Gainst  Treves  to  start. — 

A  seemly  force  have  my  recruiters  drummed 

Together;  and  they're  gath'ring  also 

Near  Strasburg,  that  has  just  joined  hands  with  me. 

From  thence  the  field  against  the  walls  of  Treves  I'll  take. 

But  still,  of  Swabia,  and  Franconia,  and 

The  Rhine  domains  the  whole  nobility 

To  Landau  have  I  first  convened,  in  order 

That  firmly  they  unite  with  me,  and  stand 

Me  powerfully  by  in  bonds  defensive  as 

Offensive.    Thither  I  depart  upon  the  spot. 
Ulrich.     I  follow  you  to  Landau. 
Franz.  No;  I  have 

For  you  some  other  work.    Yourself  shall  go 

To  the  Elector  Albrecht,  to  Mayence. 

You  know,  the  Brandenburger  is  my  friend  of  old; 

Has  many  a  spin  with  me  gone  through,  and  loves  you  too. 

He  is  unto  the  better  cause  not  lost. 

Within  his  wavering  breast,  the  Old  and  New 

Are  wrestling  fiercely.    When  the  new  faith 

As  Archbishop  he  persecutes,  'tis  done 

In  seeming,  'gainst  his  wish.  Go  you  to  him. 

He  is  the  neighbor  of  the  Trevain  priest. 

Must  not  assist  him.    Then  also,  I  must 

On  his  domain  cross  o'er  the  Rhine.    I  wish 

The  bridges  free  to  find. — It  were,  indeed. 

The  best  thing  he  decide  full  openly. 

And  on  the  field,  with  force  of  arms,  to  give 

Me  aid.    'Twould  help  appearances,  and  would 

Some  meddlers  keep  from  mixing  in  th'  affair. 
Ulrich.     You  think  he  might  so  far  himself  adventure! 
Franz.    Impossible  'tis  not !  I  long  have  seen 

Through  him.    He  fain  th'  Elect'ral  hat  he  wears 

Into  a  temp'ral  would  transform  upon 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  71 

His  own  head.    Also  thence  to  Luther's  doctrine 

We  see  him  drawn.     But  that  might  long  hang  fire. 

With  him  the  bridge  is  long  'tween  Wishing  and 

Deciding.      Tell  him  that  Franciscus  says 

'Tis  now  a  deed  for  deed.    He  knows  my  word's 

As  good  as  th'  Emperor's  or  realm's    And,  now, 

Farewell.      Your  cousin  tell  that  I  expect  him ; — 

In  camp  before  the  walls  of  Treves  you'll  find  me  again. 

[Embraces  Ulrich  and  departs.'] 
Ulrich.     [Following  him  with  his  eyes.] 
Oh,  what  a  hero !     Not  a  virtue  of  all. 
That  in  the  demi-gods  of  ancient  days. 
That  in  the  song-immortalized  men 
Of  Rome  or  Hellas  we  with  wonderment 
^     Admire,  but  reproducM  is  in  this 
One  man  enhanced  in  brilliancy ! 

[In  the  act  of  leaving,  Marie  enters.] 

Scene  VI. — Uleich;  Mabie. 

Marie.    You  here.  Sir  knight? 

[Observing  him  closer.]    And  what  a  change  has  o*er 

You  come  in  this  short  interval.    Your  sight 

AflFrighted  me,  as  shortly  ago  you  left 

Me;  now  I  find  you  again  with  cheerful  mien! 

Your  eyes  beam  joy;  the  soul's  contentment  laughs 

From  every  trait.    With  deep  peace  blending  wonderfully. 

Warm  inspiration's  fires  flame  and  light  your  brow. 
Ulrich.      The  reason  is  I  found  the  soul's  physician. 

Who  promptly  has  restored  my  peace  of  mind. 
Marie.     [With  animation.] 

How  happy  that  makes  me. 

[Embarrassed  and  more  moderately.] 

i  meant  to  say 

It  makes  me  very  glad — for  your  sake — mine 

Also — no,  for  my  father's  sake. — You  must 

Not  listen  to  my  words.      The  rapid  change 

Of  sentiments  has  quite  confusM  me. 

Enough.     I'm  glad.     The  fine  days  come  again. 

That  I  had  thought  had  fled.  The  happy  home, 

The  Muses'  lovely  seat,  that  you  this  burg 

Have  turned,  remains  unscathed,  and  once  again 

I  listen  to  your  words,  when  Poetry's 


^^  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

Great  flights,  the  songs  of  old  antiquity. 
To  us  you  deign  reveal. 
Ulrich.  My  noble  maid  I 

The  day's  alarums  now  the  Muses'  song 
Must  hush.  And  yet  not  so.  I  falsely  did 
Myself  express.    Unto  reality 
Wills  poetry  to  raise  itself.    Its  rhyme 
Recasting,  strikes  out  in  the  world,  I  hence 
Must  go;  young  lady,  a  flying  farewell  must 
I  bid  you. 
Marie.  [Alarmed.l    How?    You  mean  to  leave  this  burg  ? 
Ulrich.      This  very  hour. 
Marie,     [With  increasing  anxiety."] 

And  whither  ?  Why  ?  Do  you 
To  us  again  come  soon  ? 
Ulrich.  I  hope  not  long ! 

I  draw  to  field,  young  lady. 
Marie.     [Deeply  anxious.]  To  field? 

You,  Ulrich?  An  uprising — ^My  presentiment,  Oh,  God  I 
Ulrich.    You  Ulrich  said?    And  in  that  tone?      Marie  1 
Marie.    [Falls  into  his  arms  semi-consciotis.] 

Ulrich! 
Ulrich.  No!     No  illusion  this  can  be! 

Marie,  you  love  me  as  yourself  I  love! 
Marie.     [Returning  to  herself,  tears  herself  from  Ulrich's  arms  and 
flees  distracted  to  the  other  end  of  the  cabinet,  hut  looks 
hack  towards  Ulrich,  who,  with  hands  outstretched  towards 
her,  remains  where  he  stood.] 
Oh,  God,  did  1  aught  say?    I  nothing  said. 
No,  nothing  said  I !  Do  you  hear  ? — and  yet— 

[Transported  hy  her  affection.] 
Yes — ^yes — I  did  say!  Take  wings, 
My  girlish  prudery,  unworthy  simulation! 
Is  he  a  man  like  others?    Why  should  that 
Ashame  me  that  with  pride  my  breast  does  fill? 
What  can  on  earth  a  woman  greater  do 
Than  him  to  love  ? — Is't  not  as  though  my  own 
All  that  in  you  is  great  and  noble,  all 
You  have  achieved  and  are,  I  made?  in  your  soul's  high 
Flight  took  a  share  ?  and  shared  your  mighty  deeds, 
If  I  love  you? — 

When  love  ennobles  and  upraises  us^^ 
Wliy  not  with  gladness,  like 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  73 

To  a  devotion  freely  yield  to  it? 

Yet  who  am  I  to  dare  to  you  my  eyes 

To  lift?     The  pow'r  is  given  us,  is't  fair. 

Before  our  eyes  the  model, 

The  luminous,  to  see,  and  should  we  not 

In  our  hearts'  recesses  burn  for  it? 

Yes,  Ulrich — I  confess  it — ^yes,  I  love  you. 

Love  you  with  all  the  strength  of  a  pure  breast,  to  which 

You  stand  for  the  ideal  in  mankind! 

I  love  you — and  watch,  that  which,  while  these  words  flow. 

My  brow  inflames  is  but  the  blush  of  inspiration, 

And  not  of  shame  I     I  early  felt  my  heart 

Incline  to  you,  when  at  the  court  of  Albrecht 

I  learned  to  know  you.     There,  the  mirthful  child 
^  Resistless  your  earnest  mind  drew  to  it ! 

Around  your  head  fame  spread  a  halo,  Ulrich, 

That  partly  frightened,  partly  fascinated  me. 

At  mention  of  your  name  the  best  men's  blood 

Was  stirred;  and  when  you  spoke  it  sounded  in 

My  childish  mind  a  voice  from  upper  spheres. 

I  knew  not  that  I  loved  you — this  alone 

I  knew,  all  other  men  beside  you  seemed 

So  small,  so  very  small  to  me!     But  since 

With  us  you've  been;  since  all  the  treasures,  that 

Within  your  heart  you  carry,  you've  unlocked 

To  me;  since  you  to  new  life  and  new  thought 

The  child's  soul  nursed  to  maturity — 

I  then  became  aware  I  loxhd  you ! 

If,  Ulrich,  you  as  much  can  give  me,  then 

Am  I  the  happiest  woman  e'er  on  earth — 

And  can  you  not — it  ne'er  will  sadden  me 

That  I  the  greatest  could  and  had  to  love  I 
Ulrich.    Angelic  soul! 

Long  in  my  heart,  in  silence,  have  I  loved  you; 

But  ne'er  from  me  the  secret  had  you  learned. 

Had  you  not  now  yourself  my  tongue  set  free. 
Marie.     Then  will  I  prize  the  fright  that  overcame 

Me,  first — and  then  the  courage  gave!  But,  Oh^ 

Recalling  it,  the  shadow  falls  upon 

My  heart  again,  as  if  the  hand  of  fate 

The  clear  notes  of  my  joy  was  stifling. 

To  field  you  draw.    Said  you  not  so?    To  fieldj 

Perhaps  to  soJuethiDg  far  more  serious  than 


74  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

A  simple  f eud  ?*-Against  whom,  tell  mel 
Vlrich,    Against  th'  Elector  Richard,  Archbishop  of  Treves. 
Marie,    Against  him  only  ?    Mighty  man  he  is,         | 

And  yet  I'm  glad  it  is  against  him  only. 

I  feared  worse !     But  no  more  fear  for  me ! 

Since  from  my  lips  my  secret  fled,  meseems 

A  ton-weight  from  my  heart  I've  rollM  off. 

It  seems  fresh  courage  thrills  my  frame  since  then; 

It  seems  I  only  now  have  found  myself! 

The  sun  now  shines  around  me  joyfully; 

I  laugh  into  the  world;  and  lovingly 

The  world  responds  into  my  heart.  No!  No! 

It  can  not  be — I  can  not  at  one  time 

Have  found,  and  then  have  lost  you !    Tell  me,  do 

You,  Ulrich,  not  believe,  like  me,  in  destiny? 
Ulrich.    The  Universe's  scheme  may  rest  on  it; 

In  its  own  wisdom  planfully  itself 

O'erthrowing,  it  to  its  own  goal  leads  itself. 

Its  own  track  never  losing,  despite  all 

Its  windings — ^just  as  with  the  choral  dance 

That  only  seems  to  go  apart  and  in 

Disorder  to  dissolve,  yet,  centrally 

To  order  e'er  obedient,  uninterrupted 

Its  sinuous  course  pursues.    Aye,  e'en  what  to 

The  dull  sight  of  a  day  as  hindrances 

Appears,  is  but  the  means  to  this  world's  destiny. 

To  whose  completion  it  its  own  plans  lays. 
[Patwes.] 

The  individual  stands  on  chance's  powder-magazine ; 

Exploding,  in  the  air  it  hurls  him  far, 
Marie.    No ;  wrong  you  are !  Because  you  men  for  naugnt 

But  for  the  lump  have  heart,  you'll  grant  nor  love 

Nor  order  but  to  that.  I  certain  am 

I'll  see  you  again.  My  heart  says  so!  In  laurel  wreathed 

You  will  return  from  this  affray.      Before 

My  father  then  you'll  step,  applying  for 

His  daughter's  hand — and  then  we'll  happy  be. 
Ulrich.     [Struggling  with  himself.'] 

I  marry  you  ?     Oh,  never ! 
Marie.  Heard  I  right? 

You  will  not  marry  me  ?    Perhaps  you  fear 

My  father  may  my  hand  to  you  refuse? 

Believe  it  not!     I  know  he  loves  you  so. 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  76 

Aye,  almost  as  myself!    He'll  not  refuse. 
Ulrich.     [Oloomily.] 

It  is  not  that! — I  cannot  marry  you! 
Marie.     [Steps  back  covering  her  face  with  her  hands,"] 

Ulrich! 
Ulrich.     [Deeply  distressed.'] 

What  you,  Marie,  have  told  me  has 

Undying  happiness  afforded  me — 

iTet,  like  the  phantom  of  a  dream,  it  must 

Dissolve.    Let  ev'ry  word  be  wipM  out. 
[Turning  his  face  away.] 

Yourself  take  back!  I  can  not,  may  not  bind 

You  to  me! 

[Passionately.] 

Shall  I  also  this  sweet  child 

Entangle  in  my  life's  erratic  whirl? 

To  daily,  trembling,  see  her  head  upon 

The  wild  volcano  of  my  own  existence? 

Shall  I  her  also  carry  down  with  me 

If,  on  my  erring  path,  I  clash  with  this 

Terrestrial  ball,  in  hundred  pieces  dashed. 

And  cast  away?     Oh,  never  may  that  be! 
Marie.     [During  the  last  lines  her  hands  from  her  face  removing,] 

You  seem  to  rave!     I  hardly  understand  you — 

I  hardly  heard  you.    When  you — spurned  me  away, 

I  felt  as  if  the  roaring  billows 

Had  broken  over  me. 
Ulrich.    Mistake  me  not,  Marie!     I  may  not  weave 

Your  life  into  this  life  to  struggle  used! 

As  far  as  back  my  eyes  can  reach,  they  fall 

On  all  the  wretchednesses  men  eschew. 

Oh,  knew  you  but  one  half  of  my  sad  fate. 

You  would  then  understand  me — and  yourself 

Would  shrink  from  the  mishap,  a  wedded  bride. 

This  tempest-tossM  being's  fate  to  share. 
Marie.    How  grossly  unjust  towards  yourself  you  are  I 

You,  Ulrich,  on  whom  bountifully 

Her  gifts  by  Nature  was  bestowed,  cal?  you — 
Ulrich.     [Passionately  interrupting  her.] 

My  heels  a  demon  dogs,  the  germs  themselves 

Of  happiness  to  unhappiness  converling. 

But  barely  eleven  years,  the  gifts  perceived 

In  me  coudexnned  me  to  a  living  grave. 


76  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

Within  the  cloister-walls  of  Fulda  was 

I,  by  my  father's  will,  a  monk  condemned 

My  sunny  life  to  mourn  away.  Five  years 

Did  I  endure.      Then,  by  the  spirit  seized, 

A  lad  then  of  sixteen,  the  cloister's  gloom 

I  fled.    To  Erfurt  went,  in  its  high  school, 

RenownM  wide,  with  greedy  draughts  to  quench 

My  thirst  for  learning.       Violently  incensed. 

At  such  a  step,  my  sire  his  hand  from  me 

Withdrew — from  strangers'  charity  thenceforth 

My  meager  sustenance  I  had  to  beg! 

But  what  cared  I !  The  golden  treasures  of 

Antiquity  had  shortly  been  unlocked! 

With  ardor  at  its  breast  I  lay,  its  milk 

Of  freedom,  that  imperishable,  fresh 

Flows  forth,  my  mind  intoxicating; 

In  long  draughts  from  its  poets'  lustrous  thoughts 

The  breath  of  a  majestic,  freer  mankind 

In  my  distracted  soul  absorbing! 

But  as  the  comet  draws  its  train  along, 

Misfortune  followed  at  my  ev'ry  step. 

I  was  at  Erfurt  not  a  year — ^the  pest 

Came  and  the  school  broke  up!  Pursuing,  smiting. 

Away  the  demon  of  the  scourge  drove  with 

His  flaming  sword  the  teachers  and  the  taught! 

I  then  went  to  Cologne,  the  University. 

In  undisturbed  bloom  reigned  there,  as  still 

They  do,  the  hostile  crew  to  knowledge,  the 

Dark-browed  and  black-robed  dastard  screech-owl  breed. 

That  vampire-like  the  blood  of  mankind  drain. 

There  densest  Ignorance  holds  supreme  sway — 

The  flame-spewing  monster  that  to  death  consigned 

Arnold  von  Tungern,  Gratius,  many  more ! 

Whate'er  you  say — it  knows  one  answer  only: 

The  flames  it  ever  conjures  down  on  you! 

Not  that  flame  that  enlightens  and  gives  warmth — 

Oh,  no!  It  knows  none  other  than  the  stake's 

And  pyre's  stupid  glow.    Be't  true  or  false 

What  you  may  say,  its  fiat  is  but — Fire! 

If  right — fire !      Wrong — fire !    Fire  is  its  substance. 

From  its  throat  ever  tongues  of  flame  shoot  up! 

There,  having  to  other  youths,  devoted, 

The  charms  of  ancient  poetry  unveiled. 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  f!% 

The  thunderbolt  was  swiftly  hurled  at  me. 

For  that  offence  with  shame  I  was  expelled 

As  a  seducer  of  the  youth,  and  a 

Contemner  of  religion. — The  staff  again  I  took. 

In  Frankfort-on-the-Oder,  distant  far  away, 

A  new  asylum  of  enlightenment 

Was  founded,  Science's  new  seat.    Among 

The  lib'ral  arts*  instructors  here  I  lived 

With  kindred  minds  in  loving  circle. 

But  here  a  shocking  illness  seized  my  limbs, 

With  frightful  fangs  upon  my  marrow  gnawing. 

Of  which  I  never  have  been  wholly  healed. 

Then,  hardly  cured,  my  ever  restless  spirit 

Again  possessed  my  mind.  I  felt  impelled 

To  join,  with  science,  life.      I  grope  after 

Reality.      I  craved  to  see  the  peoples. 

The  nations,  cities  of  the  world.    I  took 

Ship  at  an  East  Sea  port.    Alas !  the  ship 

Could  not  support  me,  broke  down  under  mel— 
Marie.    Distressful ! 
Ulrich.  Stripped  of  all,  half  famished  reached 

I  Griesenwald.    But  thence  unworthy  men's 

O'erbearing  pride  drove  me  away.     I  went — 

But  yet  could  not  their  hate  escape.      I  fell 

The  prey  to  foot-pads,  and  was  left  half  naked 

The  road  with  my  own  blood  to  warm,  alone, 

In  helpless  misery  amid  the  winter's  frosts. 

The  full  way's  length  my  trail  red-painting, 

I  dragged  myself  a  dying  waif  to  Rostock. 
Marie.      Oh,  poor  man!  And  not  one  ray  of  light 

In  that  long  night? 
Vlrich.  Call  it  not  night,  but  agony! 

The  ray  did  fall.    To  my  eyes  it  revealed 

In  clear  light  the  purpose  of  my  life — 

An  endless  chain  of  agonies  the  spring. 

It  was  not  long  after  that  time,  when  fresh 

The  hatred  of  the  priesthood  flarfid  up. 

Anew  against  the  sciences'  great  strides. 

They  felt  that  at  the  breath  of  th'  ancients'  thoughts 

The  monks'  creed-tyranny,  flagitious  web, 

Would  melt  away,  and  on  the  mind's  bright  wings 

The  love  of  freedom  penetrate  the  masses'  heart. 

The  germ  of  freedom  in  its  germ  was  to  be  nipped! 


is  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

The  Nestor  of  Germanic  science,  Reuchlin, 

As  the  first  victim  was  selected;  on 

His  venerable  head  the  deadly  blow 

Was  aimed.    The  conflict  with  Cologne  broke  out. 

On  Reuchlin's  works  th'  anathema  of  the  Church 

Was  cast.    From  Erfurt,  Paris,  Mayence  and  Louvain 

The  faculties  pronounced  his  book  heretical; 

And  in  Cologne,  the  German  hot-bed  of 

The  priests'  malignity,  it  was  in  a 

Procession  solemnly  consigned  to  flames. 

All  Germany  was  in  intense  commotion; 

The  champions  of  the  intellect  around 

Reuchlin  disposed  themselves,  on  th'  other  side 

The  friar-mendicants'  and  scholiasts' 

Close  ranks.      Like  Ouelph!  and  Ghihelline!  the  cry 

Of  battle  rung,  the  land  in  sides  dividing. 

My  life's  aim  all  at  once  before  my  soul 

Unveiled  stood,  that  first  was  but  surmise. 

The  impulse  towards  science,  the  impulse  to  reality. 

That  until  then  my  breast  in  twain  had  torn, 

To  a  common  and  a  satisfied  end 

Now  blended  were.    I  now  knew  why  I  lived, 

And  to  what  end  on  th'  anvil  of  adversity 

I  had  so  fiercely  been  beaten  hard ! 

As  on  the  seas  the  tumbling  billow  topples  down. 

As  on  the  beach  the  surf  is  dashfed  back  again, 

So  I,  with  eyes  aflame,  with  quiv'ring  zeal, 

Seized  with  voluptuous  rage,  rushed  headlong  in 

The  formidable  fray.    Of  wrath  the  axe, 

Of  irony  the  spiked  club  I  swung 

With  crushing  force  upon  the  en'my's  head; 

Amid  all  Europe's  loud  applause  and  her 

Uproarous  laughter's  ring,  I  pilloried 

His  wretched  being  on  the  stage  of  parody. 

But  thus  a  mob  of  enemies  I  raised 

Unto  myself,  who  with  me  wrestle  and 

Whom  I,  opposing,  wrestle  with  incessantly 

For  life  and  death,  breast  pressing  against  breast. 

[Pattses.  [ 
To  Italy  I  felt  myself  drawn  irresistibly — 
I  ached  upon  my  en'mies  fest'ring  sores 
To  place  my  fingers,  and  the  full  abysmal 
Depth  of  decay  to  probe.      Again  I  took 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  t9 

The  staflF.  In  garments  soiled  and  torn,  by  th'  alms 

Of  kindly  hearts  a  beggar's  life  living, 

I  wandered  through  Bohemia,  Austria  and  Tyrol. 
[Marie  makes  a  mute  gesture  of  horror.^ 

Oh,  maid,  shall  I  narrate  to  you  how,  at 

Pavia,  once,  in  my  own  lodging,  I 

By  th'  enemy  beseigM  was,  myself 

Thought  lost,  and  deeming  that  my  suff 'rings'  end 

Had  come,  my  own  death  dirge  in  verse  had  sung? 

How  I  was  captured  and  escaped,  and  then, 

By  fever's  frost  and,  worse  yet,  poverty 

And  want — that,  viper-like,  in  wild  delight 

Fed  on  my  worn-out  frame — was  broken  on 

Their  rack.    Or  how  by  hunger,  that  no  choice 

Allowed  me,  a  common  lansquenet  in  Italy 

In  th'  Emperor  Maximilian's  army  I  listed ! 

And  how — 
Marie.     [In  an  agony  of  despair  interrupting.l 
Oh,  Ulrich,  stop!  I  can  no  longer 

The  awful  story  hear!  I  meant  you  long 

Ago  to  interrupt,  but  fear  seemed 

My  tongue  to  lame,  to  rob  me  of  speech — now,  screwed 

To  a  higher  pitch,  returns  it  back  to  me. 

Distressful  is  your  long-drawn  agony! 

Is't  possible  for  suff'ring  thus  to  heap 

Itself  upon  one  head,  and  that,  your  own, 

Oh,  Ulrich!  Is  it  possible  that  one 

Man  could  endure  so  much  ? — I  only  knew 

The  sunshine  of  enjoyment,  and  no  thought 

Had  I  of  its  dark  shadows.      'Tis  to  me 

As  though  your  dreadful  tale  upon  the  buds, 

That  in  my  heart  toward  the  joy  of  light 

To  breathe  have  striven,  now,  like  a  simoon 

Falls  parching,  blighting,  'neath  its  deadly  breath 

One  after  th'  other  with'ring!  Like  a  sense 

Of  ill  presentiment  it  thrills  my  frame. 

Oh,  stop !  To  hear  also  is  to  experience ! 

A  moment  pause — 
Ulrich.     [Interrupting.']     No  longer  may  I  pause 

Than  did  my  chain  of  sorrows  make  a  halt. 

If,  maid,  it  pleased  you  me  to  love,  you  must, 

Before  all  else,  the  curse  know  that  pursues  me. 
Marie.    On  you  a  curse?    You  misinterpret  me! 


SOi  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

You  will  not  frighten  me.      From  love  for  you 

My  soul  is  harrowed  by  the  shocking  tale. 

And  yet  the  very  sorrow's  long-drawn  chain 

But  all  the  more  unto  my  woman's  heart 

Endears  you.  The  mother  loves  the  child  of  pain — 

[Stops  suddenly,']  L 

No,  Ulrich,  no!     On  your  head  rests  no  curse! 

Ulrich.     No  curse  say  you  ?      You  err,  Marie !  It  is 
The  mightiest,  most  relentless  one  of  all. 
That  in  the  fury  of  his  love,  God  on 
A  mortal's  head  hurls  down!     Oh,  ever  true 
Remains  the  fable  told  of  old! — 
When  once  upon  a  time,  in  ancient  Rome, 
A  pit's  mouth  yawned,  the  city  threat'ning  with 
Destruction,  then  the  Oracles  said  this : 
The  dearest  only  thrown  into  th'  abyss 
The  gods  can  pacify.  And,  lo,  unto 
His  horse  the  spurs  applying,  clad  in  war's 
Full  panoply,  down  Curtius  leaped,  himself 
Unto  the  subterranean  god  devoting. 
The  best  must  leap  into  the  rift  of  time; 
O'er  their  bodies  only  does  it  close. 
Their  bodies  only  are  the  seldom  seed, 
From  whence  the  people's  freedom,  tree  luxuriant, 
Sprouts  up  the  world  to  bless — and  that  the  curse 
Is  that  upon  the  best  is  laid,  and  which, 
A  demon  like,  themselves,  and  all  whom  them  approach. 
To  ruin  doom! 

Marie.  Well,  then,  that  curse  will  I — 

How  gladly! — share  with  you.    The  blow  that  smites 
You,  Ulrich,  let  it  also  smite  myself. 

Ulrich.    Brave  girl !      It  well  befits  you  so  to  think ; 
But  would  it  equally  befit  myself 
To  such  a  dreary  sacrifice  give  my  consent  ? 
He  solitary  must  the  world's  path  tread. 
Who  to  the  pow'rs  of  death  himself  has  consecrated. 
Marie !  I  would  no  longer  with  my  sorrows' 
Minute  recital  rend  your  tender  heart. 
The  veil  let's  draw  upon  the  sep'rate  lines 
Of  the  great  tragedy  that  I  have  lived. 
But  one  thing  you  must  know.    For  many  a  year 
I  bore  in  stillness  mean,  disgraceful  poverty. 
Until  my  father  died.      Now  fell  to  me. 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  81 

The  first  born,  all  my  fam'ly's  large  estate. 
Was  I,  whose  plans  to  daily  turmoil  drove, 
My  brothers,  aye,  my  mother's  head  to  bind. 
To  entangle  with  my  fate?     I  would  not  that  I 
My  whole  inheritance  I  now  renounced; 
Renounced  all  joys  of  life  that  kindly  wealth. 
Reclining  on  possession's  certainty, 
With  bounteous  hands  upon  our  head  bestows. 
A  beggar  I  remained,  now  as  before — 
And  nothing,  nothing  but  my  sword  and  pen 
I  call  my  own.     For  brothers  and  my  mother 
I  took  that  course — and  should  I  less  do  for 
Yourself? 

[Ma/rie  seeks  to  interrupt  him.'] 

No;   interrupt  me  not,  Marie! 
And  if  you  should  succeed  my  doubts  to  still. 
Have  you  the  consequences  to  myself 
Reflected? — Until  now,  when  mishap's  w^hirl 
Against  life's  ragged  edges  smote  me  pitiless, 
I  still  was  happy:     I  had  preserved  my  mind's 
Serenity.     But  if  the  surf  would  toss 
Me  henceforth  on  the  crags;  if,  arm  in  arm 
With  me,  I  saw  you,  dear  girl,  against 
The  sharp  rocks  beaten,  saw  you  suffer  what 
Myself  have  suffered — saw  imprisonment, 
And  flight,  and  exile,  all  the  earthly 
Ills  known  to  man,  in  one  crown  woven,  and 
That  crown  of  thorns  forced  on  your  guiltless  head. 
Your  head,  where  only  joy,  so  far,  did  dwell; 
If  I  your  brave,  angelic  countenance 
Beheld,  your  pain  concealing,  doubly  thereby 
Racked ;  saw  you  smiling,  my  load  thus  to  ease — 
Think  you,  Marie,  that  1  could  bear  that? 
What  I  have  so  far  borne  was  but  misfortune's  show. 
What  were  my  sufferings  then? 
I  then  was  one,  at  one  with  my  own  self  I 
M^  serene  soul,  my  steeled,  goal-conscious  heart, 
My  inner  happiness — no  power  strong 
Enough  to  rob  me  of!  The  untamed  force 
That  e'er  my  soul  with  pleasure  filled,  and  e'er 
The  blows  ot  fortune  with  renew&d  pride 
Repelled — that  force  you -would  forever  crack; 
Division  introduce  into  my  breast; 


82  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

The  shield  of  adamant,  that  'gainst  a  world 
Of  enemies  protected  me,  untie ; 
The  armor  from  me  strip,  so  that,  at  last, 
The  en'mies  sword  the  long  and  vainly  looked-for 
Aperture  to  the  red  life  of  my  heart 
Could  find!       Internal  discord,  only  source 
Of  real  unhappiness,  you  would  within 
My  breast  enkindle.     Were  I  to  behold 
You  suffering,  Marie,  would  not  each  grief 
A  barb  be,  tearing  at  the  promptings  of 
My  heart ;  imparting  an  opposing  fever  to 
My  soul;  in  horrid,  desp'rate  conflict 
The  structure  of  my  fortitude  dissolve? 
Shall  I  the  bitterest  dregs  of  sorrow  taste  ? 
To  cause  you  torture  shall  I  call  you  mine  ? 
The  blow  that  strips  me  of  my  only  boon, 
What  from  me,  alone,  no  evil  fate  can  take — 
That  strength  of  joy,  the  soul's  serenity — 
Shall  that  blow  smite  me  from  the  hand  of  love? 
In  front.  Death  and  intensest  Hate  my  life  assail; 
And  in  the  rear.  Love  threatens  with  despair's  flail! 
Marie.     [Slowly  and  as  if  to  herself.] 

The  maid  in  one  night  ripens  into  woman ; 
'Tis  said  one  single  day  of  deep  affliction 
The  glossy  hair  upon  the  skull  can  whiten. 
And  so,  within  the  period  of  this  hour, 
I  ripened  feel — might  almost  say  have  aged! 

[Pauses.] 
The  gamut  broad  of  all  sensations,  from 
The  topmost  pitch  of  rapture,  down  to  pain's 
Most  melancholic  depth,  within  the  space 
Of  this  brief  hour  have  I  traversed  swift ; — 
And  heavier  far  it  weighs  than  years  have  weighed  to  me. 
Be  it  as  you«ay.    I  much  have  learned.  I've  seen 
The  world.  Of  it  a  vague  sense  now  I  taste. 
As  all  creation  in  the  sunshine  basks, 
As  in  the  bonny  face  of  Nature  kind 
The  smallest  moth  in  harmless  play  cavorts. 
Thus  did  I  think  of  happiness.    I  took 
It  for  a  right,  a  universal  one  for  all. 
I  see,  1  erred.     Quite  otherwise  as  with 
Kind  Nature,  that  with  even  hand  herself 
To  all  gives  up,  man's  hate  of  man  has  forged 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  83 

The  heavy  burden  of  a  troubled  life 

As  this  world's  law.     I  see  it,  happiness — 

That  may  not  be.  Though  late,  yet  all  the  harsher 

The  lesson  comes  to  me.     My  share  I  will 

Not  shirk  in  the  hard  fate  decreed  for  all 

The  mortals.    I  will  not  at  the  expense 

Of  your  strength  my  bosom's  joy  to  reach. 

Or  purchase  it  with  mis'ry  and  despair 

To  you.    Be  it,  Ulrich,  as  you  said.    But  see! 

I  still  am  young;  I  can  thus  suddenly 

Not  bid  adieu  to  all  the  hopes  of  life; 

Not  yet,  as  you,  have  I  been  hammered  firm 
'  In  this  severe  school  of  abnegation. 

My  soul  to  hope  still  stretches  out  its  hands. 

It  still  strains  upwards  to  the  light  of  life. 

The  hope,  Oh,  Ulrich,  leave  to  me.  Oh,  rob 

Me  not  of  it — when  you  from  this  feud  are 

Returned — 
Ulrich.  A  greater  feud  will  then  be  on. 

Marie.     IKnowingly.] 

I  know  it  now. — But  see,  also  that  feud 

An  end  must  have.      The  dreams  of  life,  the  sad 

As  well  as  pleasant,  all  do  sometimes  end ; 

There's  naught  but  has  its  end.    As  now  I  learn, 

E'en  happiness  does  end ;  and  why  not  also 

IJnhappinessf     Why  should,  of  all  things,  that 

Alone  equipp^  be  with  the  atrocious 

Privilege  of  eternity  f     When,  finally. 

From  that  feud  you  return,  then,  Ulrich — 
Ulrich.     [  Passionately.']  Then, 

When  of  that  fray  the  tumult  shall  have  ceased, 

Life's  urging  aim  been  reached,  then  may  I  press 

You  to  my  breast,  to  god-like  bliss  exalted. 

Alone  I  would  the  world  have  drained,  its  cup 

Of  bliss,  as  well  as  that  of  sorrow! 

A  whole  world  in  the  compass  of  one  man, 

I  would  the  full  fate  of  mankind  in  me  unite ! 

But  yet,  I  fear.    Envious  is  the  hidden,  fateful  Power ; 

He  grants  not  man  upon  his  own  head  godly  crowns  to  shower  I 
[Departs  precipitately.] 
Marie.     [Long  looking  after  him.] 

Oh,  Heaven,  him  protect! — In  all  thy  wide  domains, 

No  jewel,  like  to  him,  thy  starry  vault  contains ! 


8i4^  PRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

Scene  VII. — A  knight's  reception  room  in  the  Town  Hall  of  Landau, 
The  room  is  ornamented  with  flags  and  shields.  In  the  rear,  a  dais, 
on  either  side  of  which  closely  crowded  roivs  of  Knights  are  group- 
ed, and  fill  the  space  up  to  the  foreground.  Conspicuous  among 
them  is  Count  William  von  Furstenberg,  Philip  von  Dalberg, 
Philip  von  Rudesheim,  Henry  von  Dahn,  Henry  von  Schwarz- 
ENBERG,  William  von  Waldeck,  Hilchen  Lorch,  von  Benningen, 
VON  Falkenstein,  Wolf  von  Turkheim,  and  others.  Between 
the  two  rows,  Sickingen. 

Frarn.    It's  this,  ye  noble  and  free  men,  that  I 

With  faithful  and  a  truthful  heart  and  mind 

Have  long  been  wishing  on  your  hearts  to  lay. 

These  are  the  means  to  meet  th'  emergency. 

Through  this  strong  compact,  the  united  strength 

Of  priests  and  Princes  will  be  broken  up. 

The  arbitrary  rule,  whose  shackles  press 

Upon  all  stations,  finally  abolished. 

Ahove  all  others,  you  the  free  men  are 

Of  Germany! — Above  all  others,  you — 

Unless  to  cringing  flunkeys  to  descend 

You're  willing — recking  not  what  dangers  threat. 

Must  lead  the  way  to  conquer  for  the  land 

Its  old,  now  trampled-on  franchise!  — 

E'en  danger  flees  if  we  are  joined  in  one. 

Now,  then,  will  you,  as  I  have  just  announced. 

The  compact  make — 
Dahn.  We  will ! 

Dalh.  We  all  of  us! 

All.      The  compact!       Compact! 
Rud.       It  has  been  long  signed  in  our  hearts;  our  lips 

Alone  now  need  the  binding  oath  to  take. 
Franz.      Good!  Sith  you  will  it,  let  its  first  clause  be — 

We  henceforth  shall  no  law  obey  that  is 

Not  grounded  in  strict  right,  and  of  the  land's 

Acknowledged  freedom  flieth  in  the  face. 
8chw.    A  traitor  to  us  all  let  treated  be 

Whoever  hold  a  diff'rent  view  from  that. 
Fra/nz.     War  shall  be  jointly  waged  by  all  of  us 

'Gainst  him  who  dares  our  statutes  to  oppose. 
All.     So  shall  it  be!     We  all  of  us  say  so! 
Franz.     When  any  member  of  our  federation  is 

By  whomsoever  warred  against,  we  all 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  85 

Are  in  that  feud  concerned — with  all  our  pow'r, 

Our  property  and  kin  to  the  last  drop 

Of  blood.  We  all  for  each,  and  each  for  all 

Stand  pledged,  and  common  is  our  joy  or  woe. 
Turk.    That  be  the  law!  Our  oaths  we'll  take  to  that. 
All.    We  all  for  each,  and  each  of  us  for  all! 

A  perjurer,  shall  from  the  roll  of  men 

He  blotted  be,  who  keeps  not  that! 
Franz.  So  be  it. 

A  Bible  bring  that  fealty  we  swear 

Unto  the  compact,  and  obedience  glad 

^o  him  we  now  our  federation's  head  shall  choose. 

The  right  our  chief  shall  vested  be  withal. 

For  war  the  federation's  full  force  to 

Engage.     In  war  and  peace,  his  is  the  leadership. 
Dalh.     So  be't!  We  shall  his  call  obey,  glad  and 

Observant  of  the  duty  freely  assumed. 
All.    It  is  the  will  of  all,  unanimous! 
Franz.     [To  whom  a  large  Bible  has  heen  brought.'] 

Well,  then,  your  heads  now  bare,  draw  the  sword. 

And  after  me  repeat  the  oath,  that  I, 

Not  with  my  lips,  no,  with  my  heart,  shall  now 

Pronounce!    Ye  German  nobles,  swear  with  me: — 

[He  uncovers  his  head  and  places  two  fingers  on  the  Bible. 
All   the  others  uncover  and  draw  their  sioords.l 

By  that  exalted  Freedom,  that  alone 

In  man's  eyes  worth  and  splendor  lends  to  life; 

By  that  exalted  Freedom,  that  from  this 

Book  fifteen  hundred  years  ago  leaped  forth, 

And  now  still  richer  blessings  has  for  us — 
All.     [Rapturously  raising  their  swords.] 

Swear  we! 
Franz.     By  our  love  for  country,  by  that  star 

Of  man — our  honor — that,  in  shipwreck  e'en. 

When  as  a  wreck  the  hope  of  life  would  sink, 

Lights  cheerily  upon  his  eyes,  and  guides 

Them  to  Posterity's  respect — 
All.     [As  above.]  We  swear  t 

Franz.     By  the  presentiments  of  the  All-High— 

Revealed  to  us  in  Nature  and  our  mind, 

The  heart  of  man  to  great  achievements  urge, 

Life's  anchor  in  the  storms  of  life — 

By  the  warm  blood  of  all  the  bestj  who  ever 


86  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

For  mankind's  sake  have  suffered — 

All.     [As  alove.^  Swear  we  all! 

Franz.     Firm  troth  unto  this  pact,  to  our  chief  obedience. 
And  cursed  be  the  man  who  this  oath  breaks! 

All,     [As  above.'] 

Accused!     Cursed!     All  have  sworn!     The  gods 
Have  heard,  have  witness  been  to  our  oath ! 
[The  knights  mutually  embrace.] 

Franz.    Upon  the  pinions  of  our  oaths,  the  land's 
Beloved  Freedom  takes  a  mighty  flight ! 
Concluded  is  the  pact.  Now  choose  your  chief. 

Dalb.     No  need  of  lengthy  choice.  But  you  alone — 
But  you  alone  can  our  chieftain  be. 

8chw.    But  you. 

Dahn  and  Falk.    And  you  alone!     There  is  none  other! 

Rud.    Since  long  the  eye  of  all  of  us  you've  been, 
You  are  our  arm,  you  are  our  shield,  our  sword! 
'Tis  only  you  can  be  our  federation's  head ! 

All.     [Raising  their  swords.] 

Unanimous,  Franciscus,  you  we  choose 
For  our  head,  and  swear  to  follow  you! 
Upon  us  call ;  you'll  ready  find  us  all. 

Franz.    As  you  to  me,  to  you  I  pledge  my  troth. 
So  help  me  God,  a  true  head  will  I  be 
To  you,  a  Ziska  to  all  Germany. 
You  soon  will  further  hear  from  me.    Meantime, 
Yourselves  hold  ready.    Increase  your  armaments 
With  wise  and  timely  means.    Above  all  things, 
I  this  enjoin  to  you: — Let  none  of  us 
Himself  in  feuds  with  any  town  entangle! 
Too  much  have  we  in  former,  unripe  days. 
On  this  score  sinned.     The  times  are  changed,  with  them 
Their  laws.     The  towns  it  is,  whose  mighty  impulse 
To  right  and  freedom  clearly  designates  as 
Our  allies  in  the  mighty  strife.  The  love 
For  freedom  that  the  townsmen  and  the  artisans 
Impels,  that  lurks  behind  their  walls,  and  moved 
Is  by  the  brilliant  Spirit  of  the  Age, 
Makes  them  the  staunchest  piers  of  our  structure. 
Them  cultivate.     The  peasant  spare!     He's  ready 
The  papal  yoke,  that,  heavier  yet  than  on 
Ourselves,  oppresses  him,  from  off  his  back 
To  shake.      Not  us :  the  Princess  does  he  hate. 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  87] 

He  gladly  will  with  us  join  hands,  if  we 

Resort  to  justice  in  our  dealings  with 

His  class.      The  peasant  once  before  did  take 

The  lead  from  us  against  the  Princes'  tyranny. 

Remember  poor  Koontz !    He  was  o'ercome ; 

Yet  few  years  later,  we  ourselves  were  forced 

Against  Duke  Ulrich,  Wurtemberg's  lord-autocrat. 

Who  recked  our  rights  as  little  as  he  did 

The  toilers'  of  the  soil,  the  lance  to  place 

In  rest.  If  ever  through  the  land  the  God 

^f  War,  man-killing,  stalk,  the  realm  in  two 

Opposing  camps  up-breaking,  then  it  will 

The  peasant  be,  whose  strong  fist,  timely  freed, 

Will  arbitrate  the  iron  game,  decide 

The  final  fate  of  our  great  realm!     Consider  that! 

— ^And  now,  my  friends,  come  to  my  burg.    My  scribes 

An  instrument  will  there  submit  for  your 

Approving  signature  and  seal,  that  I 

Have  caused  to  be  preparM,  to  the  end 

In  seeming-slight  attire  our  federation's  great 

Compact  to  veil,  and  the  alert  suspicions  of 

The  Princess  lull,  when  wind  they  get  of  it. 

Not  earlier  than  the  ripest  moment  may 

Be  known  what  here  has  founded  been  this  day. 
Schw.    Well,  then,  we  go!  Franciscus,  hail  to  you! 

Hail  to  our  chieftain!    Hail! 
All.    All  hail  to  you,  Franciscus! 

The  fortune  that  before,  will  henceforth  too 

Accompany  thy  colors! 

[Exeunt  all,  except  Furstenherg,  Dalberg,  Lorch  and  Rude- 
sheim,  who  group  themselves  near  Franz.} 
Furs.     [Hastily  approaching  Fra/nz.'] 

Again  I  warn  you,  Franz,  you  make  a  grave 

Mistake  to  fail  to  summon  all  the  nobles 

With  their  full  forces  before  Treves.    It  would 

Be  quite  a  large  increase  of  men ;  besides. 

It  will  go  hard  to  soon  find  them  again 

In  such  a  ready  mood. — 
Franz.    I  tell  you,  no !  No  good,  but  harm  'twould  do 

Your  counsel  to  adopt.    Did  I  with  all 

The  members  of  our  Landau  gathering, 

With  all  the  knighthood  of  the  realm,  on  Treves 

Now  march,  I  would  myself  the  Princes'  eyes 


88  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

Unclose,  compelling  them  a  common  cause 

To  see.    That  were  too  soon.    It  would  more  harm 

Do  than  the  increased  forces  profit,  which. 

Moreover,  against  Treves  I  do  not  need. 

No,  Furstenberg,  I  wish  you  still  th'  affair 

A  private  feud  of  mine  to  look  upon — 

Such  feudSj  as  oft  before,  have  headed  been  by  me. 

'Tis  measure  rules  the  world — ^too  much  may  do 

As  much  harm  as  too  little. 
Furs.     Well,  as  you  please!     I  would  not  with  your  eyes, 

Expert  in  triumph,  enter  in  debate, 
Franz.      Now,  Lorch,  an  errand  that  you'll  gladly  run. 

The  herald  call.      He  ready,  waits  outside. 
Lorch:    Indeed,  I'll  gladly  run  it.    Miles  I'd  leap. 

To  quicker  such  an  errand  execute.     [Exit. 
Dalh.    But  r  will  take  my  men  along. 
Rud.  And  I! 

Franz.        Nor  you,  nor  he.    Your  wild  impatience  curb. 

The  next  years  will  enough  work  give  you  both. 
[Lorch  enters  with  herald.^ 

But  Lorch  shall  go  with  me ;  he,  anyhow. 

Concerned  w^as  in  this  matter  from  the  start. 
[To  the  herald.^ 

Step  forward,  herald ;  take  this  letter,  ride 

Full  speed  with  it  to  Treves;  and  there  announce 

To  the  Right  Reverend,  the  Prince  and  Lord 

Ricardus,  Archbishop  in  Treves  and  of 

The  Holy  Roman  Empire  in  Gaul; 

Archchancellor  of  Aries ;  Elector ;  and  so  forth — 

That  I,  Franciscus  Sickingen,  herewith 

Declare  war  to  him,  and  mean  his  sworn 

Foe  to  remain.      The  rest  he'll  in  the  letter  find. 

Tell  him  to  hie  him,  for  I'm  close  behind.     [Exit  herald. 
Furs.    Complete  was  never  yet  a  joy  in  life. 
Lorch.    How  mean  you  that? 
Furs.  I  grieve  that  I  may  not 

Be  there  the  face  to  see  that  the  Right  Reverend 

Will  make  when  he  the  news  receives. 
Franz.  You  may 

Believe  me,  it  will  be  no  surprise  to  him. 

Scene  VIII. — Balthasae;  the  former. 
Bait.     [Enters  travel-stained  and  in  haste.}       SirJ 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

From  Strasburg,  post-haste  I  have  hither  traveled. 
The  news  is  Rumor  with  a  thousand  tongues 
Abroad  proclaiming  that  you  mean  to  lead 
'Gainst  Treves  the  army  that  is  there  collecting. 
E'en  women,  children,  too,  about  it  talk; 
And  vagabonds'  and  beggars'  lungs  across 
The  land  the  flame  of  the  alarming  news 
Like  bellows  chase. 

Franz.  This  time,  my  Balthasar, 

Does  Rumor  tell  the  truth.    I  knew  it  well, 
Impossible  it  is  to  long  concealed 
The  purpose  keep  of  such  an  armSd  force. 

Bait.     Then,  that  the  purpose  was  of  this  outfit? 
Your  mind  is  made  up  finally  ?    Reflect — 

Franz.  My  friend,  there's  nothing  left  now  to  reflect! 
J  With  slackened  reins  the  herald  hastes  to  Treves, 
^         The  letter  carrying  that  war  proclaims. 

Bait.     [Meditatively. '\ 

In  that  case — ^then,  there's  nothing  more  to  change. 
'Tis  clear  to  me !    Long  I've  absent  been 
From  you,  at  Strasburg  and  elsewhere  engaged 
In  troops  to  gather.    Had  I  with  you  been, 
I  might  quite  diff"'rent  counsel  have  advanced 
To  you — less  wise,  and  yet,  perhaps,  much  wiser. 
But  that  is  gone.    So  let  it  be.    But  one 
Thing,  Sir,  I  wish  you  promise  me. 

Franz.  And  what? 

Bait.    As  now,  from  Strasburg  I  was  speeding  post, 
I  rode  first  into  camp,  the  army  to 
Inspect.     I  there  met  Dietrich  Spaeth,  your  kin. 
He  said  to  me  ^ou  meant  in  a  few  days 
'Gainst  Treves  the  field  to  take. 

Franz.  You  disapprove. 

Bait.    Not  half  the  army,  Sir,  is  yet  assembled; 

The  reinforcements  that  from  Cleves  the  knigh.t 
Of  Renneberg,  from  Brunswick  Minkwitz  are 
To  furnish  you;  those  that  from  Luxemburg, 
The  Netherlands,  Westphalia  and  the  district  of 
Cologne  are  now  for  you  recruiting — they 
All  fail.      Wait  till  they  all  together  are ; 
Then  with  your  whole  force  march  on  Treves. 
You  know,  on  th'  Elector's  shoulders  sits 
A  wise  and  vig'rous,  withal  a  stubborn  head. 


IK)  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

And  strong  is  he  in  own  and  allied  troops. 

Fra/nz.    And,  therefore,  should  I  give  him  time  that  both 
He  gather  at  their  best  ?  Speak,  Balthasar, 
How  large  is  now  the  army  at  my  command 
Near  Strasburg? 

Bait.  Full  five  thousand  horse,  also 

Ten  thousand  foot,  and  then  the  tenders  of 
Th'  artillery.      Besides,  with  their  men  rode  in 
The  Counts  of  Geroldseck,  of  Eberstein 
And  Eitelfritz  von  Zollern — 

\To  Furstenherg.']  Your  men,  sir. 

Are  likewise  there. 

Franz.  That  tallies  with  my  ofl&cers* 

Report.    Old  man,  you  are  a  first-class  head ! 
A  general  you're  not!     The  codex  of 
All  generals  has  swiftness  as  the  first 
Of  all  the  ten  commandments.    Swift  I'll  break. 
With  rapid  moves,  into  the  prelate's  lands; 
Take  from  him  burgs  and  towns;  as  surplusage. 
And  not  required,  will  join  me  before  Treves 
All  further  reinforcements.    The  lansquenet 
Fresh  courage  feels,  and  feels  relieved  if  new 
Troops  ever,  to  the  lusty  sound  of  trumpets. 
Are  seen  in  camp  to  arrive.    Or  do  you  think 
I  should  from  all  the  provinces  the  men 
To  Strasburg  drag,  and  then  to  Treves  should  tramp 
Then  back?      Would  you  a  crah  in  Franz's  flag 
Insert?    I  rather  imitate  the  hounds, 
That  on  the  game  from  all  sides  throw  themselves. 
Of  all  the  rendezvous,  the  hest  I  know 
Of  is  the  enemy's  entrails!    Up,  then. 
Ye  merry  hunters!     Hi*h  game  now's  your  prize! 
In  freedom's  bugle  blow.      It  is  the  mort 
Of  all  the  hated  despots  of  the  realm! 

All.    To  hunt!  To  hunt!  The  trackers  at  their  post. 
The  foe  to  quell  with  our  victorious  host ! 

[Curtain  closes.'] 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  91 

ACT  IV. 

Scene  1. — A  hall  in  the  castle  of  Palsgrave  Ludivig,  the  Elector  Pal- 
atine, at  Heidelberg.  Enter  the  Elector's  Secretaey  and  a 
Knight  of  the  Archbishop  of  Treves.  Later  the  Electob  himself. 

Sec.    So  closely  pressed  does  your  master  feel? 

Speak  on ;  be  not  so  chary  of  your  words. 
Knt.      So  closely  pressM  that  to  death  I  rode 

Two  horses,  but  a  breath  or  two  to  gain 

On  time.    The  town  may  any  moment  fall. 

Where  is  your  master,  and  why  do  you  not 

Lead  me  to  him  ? 
Sec.  He  soon  will  here  be. 

Have  patience,  but,  meanwhile,  be  kind  enough 

To  satisfy  my  keen  curiosity. 

If  such  a  goodly  army  had  your  lord, 

Why  did  he  not  go  out  to  meet  the  knight. 

The  town  with  his  own  breast  thus  shield,  and  thus 

The  dangers  both  avoid,  of  famine  and 

Of  treason  ? 
Ent.  Surely,  master  Secretary, 

Were  you  a  general,  you  would  without 

A  doubt  in  open  battle  Franz  defeat ! 

Who  questions  that?     But  common  mortals  as 

The  rest  of  us,  are  not  so  bold.     Where  that 

Knights  leads,  each  common  soldier  grows  to  a  hero. 

And  fights  as  if  he  crowns  would  win.     But,  lo, 

Here  comes  your  noble  Lord.    Hail,  Sir,  to  you! 

[Enters  the  Palsgrave,  and  the  Knight  bows  low,"} 
Lud.    Are  you  the  Igiight  from  Treves? 
Knt,  Yes,  Sirj  I  am. 

Whom  to  your  Grace,  in  his  great  stress  my  Lord 

Has  sent,  you  of  the  treaties  to  remind. 
Lud.    How  stands  your  master's  case  ?    Speak  on ! 
Knt,  Your  Grace, 

The  flood  to  overflowing  swells.    The  grim 

Knight  holds  our  Treves  in  iron  embrace  fast, 

And  presses  her  so  savage  to  his  heart. 

Her  iron  corsage  cracks,  crushed  by  his  love's 

Intensity.    While  now  I  speak,  the  blood 

Of  nobles  flows,  the  walls  under  the  blows 

Of  cannons  shake.    None  knows  what  the  next  hour  brings! 
Lud.    How  could  Franciscus,  in  so  short  a  time. 


9i  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

Such  inroads  make?    Upon  your  Lord's  first  notice, 

Agreeable  to  treaty,  I  sent  to  him 

A  goodly  troop  of  mounted  men  and  foot. 

And  equal  reinforcements  came  to  him 

From  other  friends.    How  comes  it,  at  the  head 

Of  all  his  nobles,  of  his  peasant-vassals. 

And  strengthened  with  these  aids,  he  failed  a  head 

To  make  against  Franciscus  in  the  field? 

Knt.     Oh,  ask  not,  Sir;  there  was  no  head  to  makel 
The  terror  of  his  name  before  him  flew, 
A  Gorgon,  palsying  resistance.    Like 
A  second  Holofernes,  magistrates 
And  commons,  maidens  robed  in  white  went  out 
To  meet  him  with  the  beat  of  drum  and  trumpet  bray, 
Whate'er  resistance,  down  his  savage  sword 
Did  mow.    St.  Wendel,  Grimberg,  Bliescastel 
He  took  by  storm,  and,  forthwith,  waxing  like 
A  speeding  conflagration,  rolled  on  Treves. 
The  God  of  War  himself,  had  he  stepped  down 
From  high,  could  not  his  fury  have  withstood! 
In  his  mailed  hand  would  Treves  now  be,  had  not 
An  accident,  or  wonder  savSd  us. 

Lud.     What's  that? 

Knt.  While,  breaking  into  towns  and  burgs, 

Resistlessly  Franciscus  marched  on  Treves, 
Th'  Elector  into  Eifel  threw  himself. 
His  people  to  a  levy  in  mass  to  call. 
This  Franz  perceived.  Intending  th'  Archbishop's 
Retreat  to  intercept,  of  the  Moselle 
The  left  bank  with  the  bastard  of  Sombreff 
He  occupies.     The  hot-head  bastard,  tho'. 
Away  being  carried  by  the  ardor  of 
His  zeal,  his  way  to  Eifel  forces,  hot 
Upon  th'  Elector's  heels.    With  cleverly 
DisguisM  marches,  he  deceives  the  hound; 
Finds  free  the  shore;  and  in  two  days  runs  in 
His  town,  ere  Franz  arrived  before  our  gates. — 
Had  Franz  found  Treves  without  her  Lord,  she  would 
Have  trembling  fallen  on  his  breast,  and  now, 
A  fugitive  upon  the  mountain,  would 
Th'  Elector  be — afraid  of  every  hunter's  footfall. 

Lud.    No  accident,  it  was  the  will  of  God, 

That  such  misfortune  turned  from  his  head! 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

But  now,  protected  by  the  walls  of  Treves, 

That  many  a  month  a  siege  could  brave,  how  can 

He  fear  so  speedy  a  fall? 
Knt.  Oh,  sir,  how  long 

Could  the  supplies  for  such  a  garrison 

Hold  out  in  a  besieged  town?    But  'tis 

Not  that  alone.    Part  of  the  townsmen — this 

Our  master  knows  from  intercepted  letters — 

Is  grumbling  for  Franciscus.    E'en  the  better 

Ones  hard  grow  to  control,  when  day  and  night 

T-hey're  frequent  called  to  take  their  posts  of  danger. 

As  I  was  leaving,  he  was  making  ready 

The  town  with  burning  shot  to  assail;  nor  could 

It  many  storms  with  ease  withstand. — But,  Sir, 

I  also  good  news  have.    I  tidings  bring 

From  Philip,  Hess's  landgrave,  visited 

By  me  in  Darmstadt,  on  the  self-same  errand. 

The  noble  Prince's  cheek  glowed  red  with  rage. 

When  he  his  ally's  stress  heard  of.    Before 

The  sixth  sun  in  the  sea  has  dipped,  he  swore 

His  army  forth  to  lead.    An  equal  force 

From  you  he  expects.    The  place  you  are  to  name 

Where  both  the  forces  are  to  meet,  thence  jointly 

To  Treves'  relief  set  forth. 
Lud.     [Hesitating.']  Equip  a  force 

Upon  so  short  a  notice — have  you  thought 

Of  that — it  is  impossible!     Moreover — 
Knt.    Oh,  do  not  hesitate,  your  Grace!  Think  of 

The  treaties!  Mind  that  ev'ry  hour  may  that 

Bring  on  that  nevermore  could  altered  be. 
Lud.    I'll  gladly  do* all  that  I  can.    I'll  send 

Another  company  to  aid  you. 
Knt.  Oh! 

And  do  you  hasten  that  it  timely  may 

Arrive  to  join  the  feast  of  Treves'  sad  wake? 

[After  a  short  pause — during  which  the  Elector  has  walk' 
the  room  up  and  down,  steeped  in  thought — with  a  hitti 
tone."] 

With  half -help  nothing  could  be  done ;  your  whole 

Force,  Sir,  alone  can  stead.    The  Hessian  emulate! 

An  army  call  around  you;  jointly  march 

To  Treves  with  Philip,  else  the  town  will  fall 

In  ruins.    You  soon  could  not,  what  now  you  can! 


U  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

Lud.     [Stopping  still,  and  to  himself  in  deep  agitation^] 
'Gainst  Franz  an  drmy  shall  I  lead? — That  were 
A  fight  for  life  and  death!     He  never  that 
Would  pardon — nor  I  him,  if  e'er  I  go  so  far! 
Let  Philip  do  so — and  not  me — if  with 
His  Luth'ran  conscience  he  can  reconcile  the  act! 
Me  other  duties  bind.    Franz !  Franz !  So  far 
Shall  I  the  years-long  love,  the  troth  forget 

That  you  and  your  house before  my  eyes 

The  bloody  specter  rises  of  Schweickhardt, 
Your  father,  warning  with  his  head — 

Ent.    [Pressing.l  Decide, 

Sir!     While  we  speak  the  leaden  dice  fall  heavy. 
Cast  by  the  God  of  War  upon  devoted  Treves. 

Lud.     [With  positiveness.'] 

It  can  not  he!    You  ask  th'  impossible. 

The  Hessian  will  suffice.     I'll  reinforcements  send. 

And — that  is  all  that  I  am  able  to. 

Knt.    It  then  is  o'er,  and  great  events  will  yet 
This  year's  sun  look  down  upon.  Inevitably. 
Is  verified  Franciscus'  word. 
[Turns  to  go.'\ 

Lud.  What  word  ? 

Knt.    Within  St.  Wendel's  walls  the  prime  nobility 
Of  Treves  itself  intrenched  had.     There  were 
Bruno  von  Schmidtburg,  Waldecker  von  Keimt, 
Otto  von  Ketting,  and  good  many  more — 
The  pillars  of  th'  archbishopric,  pledged  solemnly 
The  place  to  hold,  though  they  with  it  went  down. 
In  vain  did  twice  the  knight  a  storm  essay; 
He's  beaten  back  by  their  heroic  stand. 
But  hotter  still,  inflamed  with  furious  rage, 
Franciscus  rushes  on,  and,  at  the  third 
Attack,  like  glass  he  breaks  both  wall  and  men. 
As,  then,  within  th'  Archbishop's  burg  he  stood, 
Surrounded  by  his  military  chiefs. 
And  the  long  train  of  captured  nobles  filed 
Before  him,  grief-bent  casting  down  tlioir  eyes. 
The  moment's  bubbling  arrogance  forced  to 
His  lips  his  otherwise  well-guarded  heart. 
Ye  Sirs !  he  cried.  Look  happier  at  th'  event ! 
A  Prince  you  have,  who,  when  it  please  him,  has 
Of  wealth  an  ampleness  to  ransom  you; 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  96 

Yet  when — which,  as  you  see,  is  on  the  way — 

Decked  with  th'  Electoral  purple,  himself  then 

Franciscus  steps  into  the  Seven's  ranks, 

And  you  his  banner  then  will  follow — then 

The  change  will  profit  only  bring  to  you! 
Lud.     [Greatly  excited.'] 

Franciscus  in  the  Seven's  rank?  What?  He 

Said  that? 
Knt.  He  did  on  my  salvation,  Sir:— 

Aye  ev'ry  lansquenet  in  Franz's  camp 

Swears  loud  his  Lord  will  an  Elector  be — or  more! 
Lud.    Farew^ell,  irresolution!  Banished  is 

Regard  for  all  my  other  sentiments ! 

Franciscus!  Does  your  bold  ambition  vault 

So  high  as  at  th'  Elect'ral  purple  aim? 

Th'  Elect'ral  hat  upon  a  head  so  turbulent? 

My  just  suspicion  rightly  guided  me. 

Was  that  the  purpose  of  the  Landau  gath'ringT 

Oh,  never,  Franz!     Now  action  is  in  time. 

To  Philip  quickly  fly;  tell  him  from  me 

The  treaties  we  concluded  shall  be  observed; 

Upon  the  spot  my  whole  force  shall  I  move; 

Shall  send  him  word  where  to  connect  with  me. 

He  should  remember  ev'ry  minute  tells. 

Speed!  Speed  away! 

[To  his  private  Secretary.'] 

A  fresh  horse  furnish  him. 

Away,  Sir  Knight!  Upon  the  storm's  wings  ridel 
Knt.     [Bowing.] 

All  hail  to  you,  jny  Prince !  Such  gladsome  news 

Transforms  me  to  an  arrow.    Place  on  that  your  trust  I 
[Exit  with  the  private  secretary  in  great  hurry.] 
Lud.    The  German  Brutus  people  call  you,  Franz; 

It  now  will  ascertained  be  whether 

You  are  fhat  Brutus  that  victorious  drove 

Off  Tarquin,  or  the  one  that,  vainly  manned, 

Was  in  the  end,  his  own  life  forced  to  take. 

[Exit  precipitately.] 

Scene  II. — Sickingen*s  camp  before  Treves.  Counts  Wilhelm  VON 

FUBSTENBEBG,     ElTELFRITZ     VON     ZOLLEBN     and    HaBTMUTH     VON 

Kronbebg  enter.    Later  Fbowin  von  Hutten. 
Zol.    I  tell  you  we  shall  storm  the  town  this  day 


98  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

For  the  last  hours,  Franz  has  riding  been, 

In  semi-circle  all  along  the  walls. 
Furs.    It  would  too  early  be  a  repetition. 
ZoL    Perhaps  it  is  to  keep  the  priestly  paunches 

In  perfect  exercise.    It  never  is 

Too  soon  for  me  to  start  upon  a  storm. 
Kron.    To  him  who  battles  for  his  God,  the  heart 

Is  ne'er  so  light  as  when  he  ramparts  scales. 
[Trumpets  are  heard  from  a  distance.] 
Furs.      Hark!    Heard  you  that  ? 

[The  trumpets  repeat  the  signal  louder.] 

It  sounds  like  war's  salute. 

As  if  new  squadrons  marching  came  in  camp. 
Zol.    Lo!  Hither  hastens  towards  us  a  knight. 
Kron.      It  is  Frowin! 

[Frounn  von  Eutten  enters.} 

We  greet  you,  friend  in  camp! 
All.      [Drawing  near.] 

God's  greeting  to  you,  Frowin  von  Hutten! 
Frow.    Thanks!     Greeting  to  you.    Sirs! 

[They  shake  hands.] 
Furs.  You  come  at  last! 

You  soon  had  come  too  late;  but  yet  in  time. 
Frow.    How  mean  you  that  ? 
Furs.  In  sev'ral  ways.  Had  not 

Sombreff  his  orders  broke,  you  now  had  found 

Us  in  possession  of  the  town.  It  was 

A  stupid  slip. 
Zol.  That  matters  not.    Howe'er 

The  sweetheart  bar  the  door,  she  still  believes. 
Furs.     I  grant.  But  much  blood  had  it  saved  us. 
Kron.    The  blood  that  in  God's  honor  flows,  the  lap 

Of  earth  does  fructify,  and  hallows  our  life. 
Zol.    And  how  would  Frowin,  not  have  grieved,  had  he 

Too  late  arrived  to  dance ! 
Frow.  Not  earlier  could 

I  come.    The  company's  equipment  held 

Me  long.    But  how  stand  things?  I  crave  to  know. 
Furs.    Have  you  not  yet  Franciscus  seen  ? 
Frow.  I  have 

I  met  him  on  the  hill  over  against 

The  town.    His  lancers'  chiefs  surrounded  him. 

He  listened  in  great  haste  to  my  report. 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  ^. 

To  yoii  referring  me  for  news  from  him. 

With  him,  behind,  I  left  my  cousin,  and  have  hither  hurried. 
Zol.    In  few  words  the  report  I'll  make.    We've  had 

Two  trial  storms;  and,  if  not  much  deceived. 

You  just  in  time  are  for  the  third  attempt. 
Frow.    The  bishop  holds  out  well  ? 
Zol.  A  full-fledged  Mars. 

Sticks  in  the  priest.    A  pity  of  him!     He  swings 

The  sword  as  if  it  were  a  holy-water  sprinkler. 
Furs.     And  not  less  well  does  he  the  firebrand; 

He  burns  down  cloisters  just  as  a  Hussite. 
Frow.     Cloisters,  the  priest? 
Zol.  You  know  the  abbey  of 

St.  Maximin,  the  noble  structure,  that 

Upon  an  eminence,  near  this  town  rose? 

Not  on  th'  archbishopric  dependent,  and 

Placed  under  the  protection  of  the  realm. 

It  long  had  roused  the  bishop's  envious  longings. 
Froio.    I  know  it  well.     A  prime  strategic  spot, 

For  siege  artillery  to  be  set  up. 

Protected  by  its  walls  and  courts,  the  town 

Could  from  its  height  be  swept. 
Zol.  Exactly  so! 

Now,  then,  two  days  before  our  own  arrival,  by 

Sombreflf  allowed  to  slip  through,  th'  Archbishop 

Reached  Treves.    The  first  thing  that  he  does — behold 

How  nicely  Hate  and  Wisdom  joined  hands 

To  suit  the  priest — is,  mindless  of  the  cry 

Raised  by  the  monks,  the  abbey  to  tear  do\\Ti. 

'Twas  plunder^.    My  bald-crowns  were  left  free  to 

Remove  to  Treves.    In  war's  accoutrement. 

The  firebrand  in  his  own  hand,  the  priest 

In  person  led  the  work  of  demolition. 
Furs.    One  of  his  mounted  men  quite  worshipful 

The  torch  took  from  his  hand — Your  Worship,  sai( 

The  man,  leave  that  to  me,  whom  hetter,  than 

To  such  a  pious  man,  becomes  the  work  of  arson! 
[They  laugh."] 
Zol.    That  happened  so!  And  what  the  fire  did 

Not  burn  the  pick  demolished.    Just  as  with 

The  vanguard  we  arrived,  the  priest  withdrew. 

We  only  ruins  found. 
Frow.  By  that  I  Richard  recognize  I 


m  J^RANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

Fufs,    You've  heard  from  us.    'Tis  now  your  turn  for  news. 

How  does  it  stand  with  Albrecht  ?    Let  us  know ! 

Will  he  with  open  forces  Franz  support? 
Frow.    Oh,  quite  impossible,  just  now!  What  secretly 

He  can,  that  will  he  gladly  do,  and  will 

Continue  doing;  openly,  however — 

For  that  it  is  too  early.  I  myself, 

The  racking  doubts  beholding  that  his  mind 

Assailed,  stepped  up  to  him  and  said — Sir,  I 

Return  to  you.  the  seal  I  hold;  I  have 

In  all  Frandscus'  feuds  participated. 

And  mean  to  do  so  now  again,  hut  not 

As  your  Gra/ndmaster  and  your  Chamberlain. — 

With  his  large  eyes  he  looked  me  kindly  in 

The  face  and  said — Frowin,  you  are  quite  right; 

You  knoiv,  I  open  keep  your  place,  both  at 

My  court  a/nd  heart! 
Furs.  Does  Franz  know  that?    Twill  grieve  him  sore  I 

Frow.   It  did  not  so.    We  need  him  not,  said  he 

With  calm  indifference. 
Zol.  And  he  is  right! 

I  think  so  too.    We  do  not  stand  in  need  of  him. 
Frow.    Then,  with  his  shrewd  smile  said — Th'  Elector  of 

Mayence  unll  banquet  but  not  cook  with  us ! 

For  all  that  yvt  his  plaxie  I'll  honor  at  the  feast. 
Kron.     [Stepping  to  the  rear."] 

There's  Franz  approaching. 
Zol.  Yes,  indeed,  and  weighty  tidings 

It  seems  he  brings.  He  is  accompanied 

By  all  the  captains  of  the  army. 

Scene  III. — Feanz  unth  Ulrich  von  Hutten  and  captains  of  the 
army,  among  them  Fbitz  Sombbeff.     The  former. 

Franz.    I  greet  you,  dear  Sirs ! 

All.  Franciscus,  hail  to  you ! 

Franz.    My  noble  Sirs,  I  come  your  views  to  take — 

Shall  we,  to-day,  a  third  time  try  a  storm  ? 

[A  single  trumpet  sounds  without.    All  listen.l 

What  was  that? 
Furs.  On  my  soul,  it  sounded  like 

The  signal  for  a  parley. 
ZdL  Surely,  not 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  89 

The  priest  seeks  to  negotiate"? 
A  Lcmsquenet.      [Entering.]     Sir,  an 

Imperial  herald  has  arrived.     He  brings, 
Says  he,  a  mandate  from  the  Emperor. 
Franz,    Then  lead  him  hither ! 

[Exit  Lansquenet.'] 

Once  more  shall  I  hear 
The  fiddle  scratch  of  th'  old  regime — but  then, 
For  the  last  time ! 

Scene  ly. — Hebald  preceded  hy  the  lansquenet.    The  former, 

Her.    Whom,  here,  do  I  greet  as  Franz  von  Sickingen  ? 

Franz.     You  stand  before  him. 

Her.  Franz  von  Sickingen 

In  th'  Emperor's  and  Reichstag's  name,  I  have 

A  double  mandate  to  announce — to  you. 

As  well  as  to  your  army. 
Franz  To  the  end 

That  you  may  see  the  answer  you'll  receive 

Proceeds,  not  from  my  orders,  but  the  breasts 

Themselves  of  these  free  men — 

[To   the   lansquenet.]  The   captains  of 

My  army  call  together,  that  each  one 

Himself  may  hear  what  him  concerns. 
Zol.    We're  now  assembled. 
Her,  Captains ! 

Franz  Herald,  hold! 

You  presently  shall  have  the  floor. 

[Steps  towards  the  group  of  captains  standing  opposite,'] 

Where  is 

My  Joerg  von  Augsburg? 
Augs.     [Stepping  forward.]     Sir! 
Franz,  Draw  nearer,  Joerg! 

[Whispers  to  him;  Joerg  nods;  then  louder  to  Joerg.] 

And  whei   you're  ready,  let  the  trumpets  blow; 

The  martial  music  shall  my  signal  be. 

[Joerg  withdraws  with  rapid  steps.    Franz  steps  again  to  the 
center  where  he  had  stood  before.] 

Now,  Herald,  speak!  Your  message  now  commence. 
Her.     Ye  Counts,  ye  Nobles,  Knights  and  Captains,  all 

Of  th'  army  that  encamped  is  before  Treves! 

Thus  speaks  the  Emp'ror  Charles  through  me,  this  day: — 

Revolt,  and  riot  and  a  breach  of  peace 


100  FRANZ  VON  SICKlNGEN. 

Is  this  war  that  Franciscus  has  involved 

You  in ;  against  the  realm's  decrees ;  against 

The  Golden  Bull  and  prescripts,  issued  by 

Imperial  Majesty.     Therefore  commands 

The  Emperor  that  forthwith  to  your  homes 

You  back  shall  march,  and  back  into  its  scabbard 

Your  wrath-inflam&d  swords  return.     Then  will 

He  extend  to  you  both  grace  and  pardon.    But 

If  not,  the  Reichstag's  ban  will  fall  on  you — 

Not  merely  heavy  punishment  in  limb 

And  goods — no !    If  still  further  Franz's  flag 

You  follow,  then  your  heads  will  fall! — Thus  swears 

The  Emperor. 

[Commotion  am^mg  the  knights  and  captains.^ 

Franz.  You've  heard  the  threat  of  Charles. 

Zol.     We  heard  it,  and  to  you  shall  faithful  bide. 

All.    We  follow  Franz.    His  banner  we  will  follow. 

Zol.     [To  Herald.] 

Go  back  and  say  that  in  Franciscus'  camp 
Men  and  not  milksops  you  have  found. 

All.    Hail,  Franz,  to  you!     We'll  follow  you  till  death! 

Her.    I  now,  Franciscus,  turn  my  face  to  you! 
The  Emperor  reminds  you  of  his  old 
Affection ;  he  reminds  you  of  the  grace 
That  he  has  e'er  extended  unto  you. 
You  shall  forthwith  withdraw  the  army  that 
Assails  his  nephew  and  this  sacred  place. 
If  not,  upon  you  too  the  ban  will  fall. 
And  forfeiture  of  his  Imperial  grace. 
And  if  against  th'  Elector  you  have  just 
Cause  of  complaint,  the  realm's  courts  shall  forthwith- 
Himself  Charles  vouches  therefor — to  you 
Full  justice  do.  Thus  runs  my  message.    Weigh 
It  well.    I  anxiously  your  answer  wait. 

Franz.      Go,  herald,  and  unto  your  Lord  announce: — 
Gone  by  is  now  the  time  for  words!     Upon 
The  Gate  of  Time,  with  iron  knuckles  loud. 
And  big  with  fate,  the  hour  decisive  strikes. 
This  realm  lies  prostrate  in  convulsions.    No 
Nice  flourishes  of  law  can  now  the  strife  allay, 
That  shakes  its  frame! — Look  yonder,  herald!  Do 
You  see  yon  pile  of  muskets  and  of  cartridges? 
From  their  throats  such  times  as  these  their  law 


FRANZ  VON  SICKlNGEiT.  lOl 

Tempestuous  draw.    In  my  own  camp  stands  raised 

The  realm's  high  judgment  seat.    Myself  I'll  found 

A  powerful  new  order,  and  will  dare 

A  deed  to  do 

Ne'er  yet  by  Roman  Emperor  attempted! 

[The  herald  turns  to  go;  at  that  moment  mxirtial  mtiaic 
sounds  loithout,'] 

Hold,  herald,  take  your  answer  to  the  end ! 

Hear  you  the  bugles  blow  and  trumpets  bray  ? 

They  summon  us — ^you,  Sirs — to  storm  the  walls! 

Th'  arrival  of  the  herald  served,  in  lieu 

Of  martial  council,  quick  the  time  to  wink  away. 

Few  hours  more,  and,  herald,  back  to  Charles 

You'll  take  the  greeting  that  from   Treves  Franz  sends  to  him. 
{Draws  his  sicordJ] 

And  now.  Sirs,  to  the  storm! 
All.     [Drawing  their  swords. "]  Aye  to  the  storm! 
Franz.    Let  Luther  and  Franciscus  be  the  cry ; 

Myself  will  the  first  ladder  place  against  the  wall. 
8omh.     [Stepping  forward.^ 

No,  Sir!     Allow  that  I  the  heavy  debt 

Now  pay  that  weighs  upon  my  breast.    Mine  be 

The  boon  of  the  first  ladder.  Sir.    Let  me 

Atone  this  day  for  what  I  did  amiss. 

If  not,  believe  me,  alive  I'll  not  return. 
Franz.     [Somlerly.'] 

I  grant  it,  Sombreff.    Many  brothers'  blood 

Lies  heavy  upon  your  life ;  'tis  thine  no  more ; 

Gro  dash  it  'gainst  the  walls  of  Treves.    That  which 

Both  sides  now  lose  is  gain — to  you  and  us. 

And  now,  Sirs,  to  the  storm!     The  sun  goes  down 

In  blood.    Oh,  may  her  morning  rays  find  us  in  Treves! 
All.    On,  to  the  storm!     On!  Luther  and  Franciscus! 

[Exeunt  all.] 

Scene  V. — Market-place  in  Treves.  It  is  night.  The  town  hums  in 
several  places.  The  scene  is  lighted  by  the  distant  conflagrations. 
The  hells  are  ringing.  From  time  to  time,  the  roar  of  cannon 
and  crush  of  halls  is  heard.  Women  flee  wringing  their  hands, 
and  dragging  their  children  after  them,  or  carrying  them  in  their 
arms. 

1st  WomAin.    Oh,  heaven!    Ruined  am  I? 

2nd  Woman.     [Rushing  in  loith  a  child  in  her  arms."] 


1G2  FKaNZ  von  SICKINGEN. 

Save  yourselves! 

The  en'my's  forcing  in  the  Koritz  gate! 
Srd  Woman.     [RurShing  in  with  a  little  girl  and  distractedly  looking 
round."] 

Fritz!  Fritz!  Where  are  you,  Fritz!  Oh,  Jesus,  Maria! 

My  child!  My  child! 

[Rushes  hack  in  the  direction  whence  she  came.    From  sev- 
eral sides  crowds  of  townsmen  enter  tumultuously  and 
grumbling,  and  armed  with  pikes,  swords  and  lattle-axes.] 
1st   Town.  We  can  hold  out  no  longer. 

One  half  the  town  is  burning. 
2nd  Town.  One  hour  more, 

The  foe  will  take  the  Simeon  church.    Depend  on  that. 
Srd   Town.    The  foe?    What  priestly  cant  is  that  you  talk! 

Is,  then,  Franciscus  your  foe,  or  mine? 

His  proclamation  solemnly  declares 

He  none  fights  but  the  priest.    No  townsman  shall 

In  body  suffer  or  in  limb. 
J^th    Town.    Indeed,  it  is  the  doings  of  the  priest 

That  we  with  blood  and  wealth  are  paying  for. 
Srd    Town.    Meseems,  a  stupid  trade  we  ply  to  fight. 

Against  our  interests,  and  to  uphold 

The  priest's  oppression. 
Several  Voices.  Yes  'tis  so!     'Tis  true! 

Other  Voices.    No!  No!  No! 
Jtth  Town.  Silence!  No  dissensions  here! 

This  much  is  sure.    What  Franz's  'gainst  Richard  has 

Does  not  concern  the  town.    Why,  then,  does  not 

His  Worship  with  his  nobles  go  outside. 

And  settle  in  the  open  field  his  feud 

With  Franz?    Why  does  he,  instead,  defend  himself 

With  our  houses,  that  in  flames  go  up? 

Make  us  the  scape-goats  of  his  private  quarrel? 

Who  of  you  is  so  priest-daft  that  he'd  gladly. 

In  the  bald-crown's  quarrel,  house  and  home,  and  wife 

And  child,  and  his  own  life  to  boot,  fling  in 

The  flames? 
All.  No!    None! 

Several  Voices.  We'll  to  the  Bishop  go! 

Scene  VI. — Enters  the  Electoe-Aechbishop  Richaed  with  Count 
Solms,  followed  hy  a  guard  of  lansquenets.  The  ArchMshop  is  in 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  103 

full  armor,  his  hare  sword  in  his  ha/nd  and  helmet  on  head;  over 
his  armor  the  episcopal  pallium. 

Arch.     I  tell  you,  Solms,  beset  am  I  with  traitors; 

At  my  own  table  sit  these  men — 

[Notices  the  crowd  of  townsmen,  and  steps  towards  them,  who 
at  his  approach,  draw  hack  timid  and  grumhling.^ 

What  do  you  here  ?    Why  not  upon  the  walls  ? 

Is  this  a  time  to  rest,  your  wide  mouths  fetch 

Together  ?      Off,  with  you !     And  quickly  go ! 

[Hollow  murmur  from  the  crowd  of  townsmen,'] 
Several  Voices.    The  town  no  longer  can  hold  out! 
Arch.  Who  grumbles? 

4th    Toion.     Worshipful  Sir!     Our  property  in  vain 

Goes  up  in  flames.    We  think,  if  with  the  knights 

Your  worship  would  betake  himself  outside 

The  gates,  and  there  offer  to  give  battle. 

That  would  preserve  from  total  demolition 

Your  Worship's  faithful  town.    The  victory 

Could  surely  not  choose  but  fall  upon 

Your  sanctifiM  arms. 
All.  Yes,  leave  the  town! 

Arch.     Ye  pack  of  traitors!     Lashes  shall  you  have. 

To  take  away  your  taste  for  mutiny. 

Scene  VII. — At  the  moment  when  the  Archbishop  rushes  at  the 
crowd  of  receding  townsmen,  a  captain  enters  with  a  squad  of 
soldiers  dragging  in  a  Sickingen  lansquenet.    The  former. 

Capt.       [To  Archbishop.] 

Sir  Archbishop!     This  lansquenet  we  took. 
W^ith  our  sling^  we  pulled  him  off  the  wall. 
He  might  disclose  the  en'my's  plans  and  strength. 
Arch.     [To  the  lansquenet.] 

You've  heard  what's  wanted.     If  your  life  you  love 
The  information  give.  Step  in  my  ranks. 
Lans.    I  rather  die  in  Franz's  grace,  than  live 

In  Treves  a  priest's  puppet. 
A  Soldier.  Then  die,  you  dog! 

[Stabs  the  lansquenet.    A  pause.] 
Arch.     Remove  that  corpse! 

[The  captain  and  soldiers  withdraw  with  the  corpse  of  the 
lansquenet  and  the  Archbishop  proceeds  addressing  the 
townsmen*] 


104  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

To  you  I  say:  that  corpse 
A  warning  be  to  you.    A  corpse  I'll  make 
Whome'er  suspicious  acts.    Now,  to  the  walls ! 
3rd  Town,      [Whispering  to  the  4th  tovmsman.} 
Be  careful ;  anger  him  not  now — I'll  tell 
You  more.    We'll  in  the  end  enforce  our  plan. 
Arch.    At  your  gates,  the  best  nobility 

Is  freely  shedding  from  its  princely  veins 

The  ruddy  stream  of  life,  and  you  would  save 

Your  low,  plebeian  blood?    Would  spare  your  mean 

Existence  when  the  fight  is  raging  for 

The  holy  things  of  earth  ?      The  pious  monk 

Himself,  in  sword-craft  inexpert,  his  hands, 

To  prayer  only  usfed,  puts  to  work. 

Himself,  self-sacrificing,  in  the  jaws 

Of  death  he  throws,  fights  for  his  faith  and  God — 

And  you  will  think  but  of  your  earthly  goods? 

[Approaching  from  a  distance  is  heard  a  choral  song  of 
monks  singing  the  first  strophe  of  a  hymn.Ji 
Chobal.    Fibst  Stbophe. 
8pe  mercedis  et  coronae 
Stetis  martyr  in  agone 
Ad  mortem  ohediens 
Morte  Christum  imitatus 
Fide  firmu^  et  firmatus 
Firmo  greffu  gradiens. 
Arch.     [When  the  strophe  ends,  turning  again  to  the  townsmen.] 
Behold,  the  pious  soldiers  are  approaching, 
Decided,  cheerful,  a  second  wall 
To  raise  around  the  town  with  their  brave  hearts. 

[The  procession  of  monks  enters  and  marches  across  the  place 
carrying  banners  and  other  church  insignia,  and  singing 
the  second  strophe  of  the  choral.} 
Chobal.    Second  Stbophe. 
Furit  furor  militaris 
Ut  vir  sacer  sacris  aris 

Immoletur  hostia 
Quern  occidunt  saevientes 
Introducunt  nescientes 
Ad  aeterna  gaudia. 
[At  the  appearance  of  the  procession,  the  Archbishop  and  all 
those  present  fall  upon  their  knees;  singing   the  second 
strophe  of  the  choral,  the  procession  parses  slowly  over  the 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  105 

place,  halting  noio  and  then.       After  the  procession  ha>s 
passed,  the  Archbishop  and  all  the  others  rise.] 
A  rch.     [^Stretching  out  his  arms  in  'benediction.'] 

Rise,  strengthened  by  the  blessing  from  on  high! 

The  Lord  of  Hosts  himself  fights  on  our  side, 

And  parries  from  your  head  the  en'my's  sword; 

The  Holy  Virgin  marches  on  before, 

She  looks  at  you  with  her  celestial  eyes. 

Blessed  who  this  day  sheds  his  blood!  Such  death, 

LikQ^our  Lord's  own  blood,  the  sinner's  sins 

And  errors  wipes  away.     The  Gates  of  Glory 

The  paradise  of  joy,  are  opened  wide  to  him 

The  angels  meet  him  singing  songs  of  praise, 

And  lead  him  to  the  right  hand  of  God's  throne. 

Illumined  by  th'  eternal  splendor  of  His  light! 

Up,  then,  and  to  the  walls!     I'll  lead  you  on. 

For  battle  cry,  invoke  the  Holy  Virgin ! 
All.    On  to  the  walls!       Treves  and  the  Holy  Virgin! 

Scene  VIII. — The  camp  before  Treves..  Morning  is  slowly  dawning. 
Lansquenets  enter  carrying  the  deadly  wounded  Sombbeff;  later 
Ulrich  von  Hutten. 

Somb.    Lay  me  down  here.    'Tis  one  where  I  shall  die. 

1st   Lans.     'Twill  not  be  quite  so  bad,  Sir  Knight ;  I'll  bring  you  help. 

Somb.     I  am  past  hope.  Return  and  fight  your  best. 

[Ulrich  enters  with  armed  men.'] 
2nd  Lans.     Who  comes !     The  pass-word — 

Ulrich.  Luther  and  Franciscus! 

Somb.     [Painfully  raising  himself  on  his  elbow.] 

You,  Hutten,  here? 
Ulrich.  Fritz  Sombreff!     Wounded  sore? 

Somb.    To   death! 

Ulrich.  Poor  friend!     Your  promise  well  you've  kept! 

Somb.    How  stands  the  fight  ?    Oh,  let  me  know ! 
Ulrich.  Still  undecided 

The  scales  are  trembling!     Hither  from 

The  Mosel  gate  I  come,  where  we  the  foe's 

Terrific  sally  bloodily  repelled. 

Before  his  men  th'  Archbishop  himself  fought; 

At  him  dashed  Franz,  whose  lightning  sword,  the  priest 

Pursuing,  and  whom  Mars  snatched  off,  mowed  down 

Relentlessly  the  thick-set  ranks  of  the 

Resisting  foe!     But,  now,  farewell!     I  hasten 


lOG  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

Towards  the  Simeon  gate,  where  Franz,  the  town 

There  closely  pressing,  has  upon  his  hands 

The  en'my's  heaviest  force.     Farewell,  and  do 

Not  take  it  ill  if  now  I  leave  you  alone, 

Obedient  to  war's  barbarous  behest. 
8oml).     Oh,  but  one  moment  more,  with  a  few  words 

Be  pleased  to  soothe  my  life's  last  breath!     How  stood 

Thinks  at  the  Koritz  gate  ?    A  rumor  flew 

Across  the  ranks  that  it  had  taken  been! 
Ulrich.     There,  Death's  own  image,  black  von  Zollern, 

The  club  swings  that  in  his  hands  fully  out-does 

The  scythes  of  two  of  th'  en'my's  most  deadly  reapers. 

As  he  his  men  against  the  wall  was  leading. 

Upon  th'  assailants'  heads  fell  such  a  stream 

Of  boiling  oil  and  melted  lead,  that  loud 

The  men  yelled,  dropped  the  ladder,  and  fled  back. 

Yet  he,  with  not  a  call  their  flight  rewarding. 

As  if  alone  he  meant  to  take  the  town, 

The  heavy  ladder  lifts,  and  up  its  rungs 

With  rapid  strides  he  climbs.    At  such  a  sight, 

The  men  are  seized  with  shame,  that  hotter  burned 

Than  melted  fire ;  they  turn  about  and  dash 

After  their  leader.    Wounded  in  the  right, 

In  his  left  hand  he  takes  the  sword  and  fights 

On  as  before.    The  ladder  breaks  beneath 

His  closely  following  men,  that  forward  pressed 

To  second  him — but  all  the  while  I  speak 

The  minutes  flee. — ^Hark !  Signals —  Heard  you  that  1 
[A  long  draicn  signal  sounds  from  afar.^ 
Sonil.     They're  sounding  a  retreat!       The  storm  is  stopped — 

Let  with  it  end  the  remnant  of  this  life. 
[Falls  lack  and  dies.'] 

Scene  IX. — FraT?tz  and  suite,  later  Fubstenburg,  Zollern,  Frowin, 

Augsburg  amd  other  captains  and  knights. 
Franz.     The  generals  call  hither!     Rest  we  of 

The  storm,  that  breathless  all  night  long  has  raged. 

[Exit  several  men;  he  notices  Ulrich.'] 
You,  Ulrich,  here! 

[Embraces  him.]     I  felt  concerned  for  you. 
When  from  each  other,  driven  by  the  wave 
Of  rushing  men,  you  tumbled  were  upon 
Their  bloody  arms.    You  see,  the  grim  priest  will 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  107 

Not  cheaply  part  with  his  Electoral  hat. 
[Enters  the  generals  sent  for.^ 

I  greet  you,  Sirs !     A  circle  make  around  me. 

The  morning's  pale  light  breaks,  and  rest  require 

The  wholly  exhausted  troops,  who,  without  let, 

Have  eight  long  hours  through  pools  of  blood  been  wading, 

And  'gainst  the  town's  walls  dashed  themselves.    I,  hence, 

Have  torn  you  from  your  mowing  labors,  here 

To  council  take,  whether  forthwith,  upon 

A  short  rest's  respite,  we  the  battle  shall 

Reswne,  or  shall  defer  till  our  cannons 

A  wider  path  have  broke.    Ye  captains  and 

Ye  nobles  of  this  army,  speak  your  minds 

As  freely  as  becomes  a  chief  to  speak. 
Zol.     [With  his  right  hand  in  a  sling,  his  sword  in  his  leftJ] 

I  am  for  storming! — 'Twere  a  shame  if  we 

This  night  should  fail  to  rest  and  sleep  in  Treves 
Furs.     Sir,  softly!     Anger  carries  you  away. 

'Tis  coolness  that  befits  a  gen'ral's  council. 

The  storm  was  ordered  much  too  soon ;  too  firm — 

We've  found  it  out — are  still  the  stubborn  walls; 

We  vainly  sacrifice  our  men;  the  town 

Can  now  no  more  escape  our  hands ;  but  yet 

The  cannons'  fiery  pounding  needed  is 

To  soften  her,  and  in  her  heart  the  way 

To  clear  for  our  storm's  successful  issue. 
Frow.      And  so  think  I.  The  town  is  lost.    But  only  if 

The  way  we  break  for  our  assault,  obedient  to 

The  settled  rules  of  siege. 
Zol.  The  sword  breaks  wayr 

To  him  that  kqpws  to  wield  it. 
Augs,  Sirs,  allow 

That  now  I  venture  in  this  council  of 

The  army's  chiefs  the  word  to  take.  You  know 

Me,  Sir !  I  fought  the  battles  of  the  realm, 

With  th'  Emp'ror  Max  I  camped  in  Welschland, 

I  stood — 
Franz.  We  all  know  you,  my  sturdy  Joerg, 

You  are  the  army's  chief  of  ordnance,  and 

Since  wars  I've  waged,  none  better  do  I  know. 
Augs.    Well,  then,  now  listen — 

So  long  as  we  no  breach  into  the  walls 

Have  shot,  you  vainly  dash  your  army's  head 


108  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

Against  the  bulwark.    It  is  much  too  strong. 
Its  garrison  too  large,  and  it  is  too 
Well  generalled!     Of  these  three,  two  we  might 
O'ercome,  not  all  the  three  comhined.     Impossible! 
And  now.  Sir  knight,  if  my  advice  you'll  take, 
I  pledge  myself,  before  eight  days  have  run 
Their  course,  and  simply  by  my  ordnance  now 
Upon  but  few  points  centering,  to  ope 
Two  breaches  in  the  town — the  North  gate  and 
The  West — Give  then  the  order  for  the  storm! 
The  town  will  helpless  at  you  mercy  fall 
Into  your  warm  victorious  arms. 

A  Lansquenet.  My  general ! 

This  minute,  while  myself  and  others  three 
Stood  sentinel  along  the  bastion,  from 
Within  the  walls  an  arrow  flew  and  fell 
At  our  feet.      We  found  a  note  attached 
To  th'  arrow,  and  this  inscription  did  it  bear: — 
To  the  most  puissant  knight,  Franciscus. 

Franz.     [To  Joerg.} 

From  th'  arrow  cut  and  read  the  note  to  us. 

Augs.      [Reading.'] 

''Worshipful  Sir  Knight!  It  is  a  friend  who  uyrites  to  you,  and  if 
he  is  not  your  friend,  he  would  te  your  enemy,  which,  may  God 
stand  hy  me,  is  like  saying  an  enemy  of  himself  and  of  every  hon- 
orable Christian,  and  a  friend  of  these  thick-skinned,  money - 
greedy,  man-skinning  priests,  whom  he  loves  as  much  a^  your 
hullets  love  them  when,  out  of  sympathy,  your  bullets  walk  into 
their  bodies  in  front,  and,  out  of  antipathy^  walk  out  again  at 
their  backs,  a  magnificent  spectacle,  that  he  will  never  forget  it 
was  you,  m<iy  God  reward  you  therefor,  who  to-day  furnished 
him  several  times.  If  you  take  the  town,  and  your  Grace  deigns 
him  the  favor,  he  requests  that  you  may  carry  it  out  upon  the 
bald-crowns  whom  you  have  sentenced  to  be  hanged,  and  to  exe- 
cute it  upon  those  whom,  perhaps,  you  mean  to  let  go.  Now,  to 
the  point.  You  have  friends  in  the  town,  and  people  who  are 
favorable.  But  it  is  still  too  early.  You  must  curb  your  im- 
patience, and  be  nicely  quiet  for  a  while.  Because  the  garrison  is 
still  too  numerous,  and  the  papists  are  still  making  too  much  of 
am,  outcry.  But  the  burghers  have  not  yet  the  necessary  courage. 
But  if  you  shoot  down  their  houses  eight  days  longer,  you  will 
bring  it  to  a  favorable  issue.  Therefore,  have  patience.  Sir 
Knight,  because  every  ball  that  falls  in  here  carries  away  one  of 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  109 

your  enemies,  and  makes  you  one  more  friend.  You  unll  hear 

further  from  me,  and  I  am  negotiating  about  a  little  gat6.  When 

a  week  is  over,  you  unll  become  personally  acquainted  loith  me, 

and  do  not  then  forget  my  favor!" 

[General  laughter  among  all  present.'] 

An  eloquent  epistle ! 
Zol.  Quite  an  assiduous  knave! 

Franz.    You're  all  agreed  to  a  postponement? 
AU,  Yes,  we  are! 

Franz.    JTius,  with  or  without  letter — this  a  ruse 

Of  th'  enemy  may  be — 'tis  my  view  also. 

Return  the  army  to  its  old  positions ; 

With  increased  force  the  murd'rous  cannonade 

We  shall  renew. 
Augs.  Aye,  Sir ;  but  'tis  the  third 

Time,  now,  I  warn  you  that  we  powder  lack. 

You  promised  sev'ral  days  ago  th'  arrival 

Of  fresh  kegs,  ordered  by  you  from  Landstuhl. 

'Tis  pressing,  the  supply  can  last  but  few  days  more. 
Franz.    Joerg,  worry  not !     I  know  not  how  it  happens 

The  transport  is  so  long  in  coming.    But 

To-day  it  surely  will  arrive.      Meantime, 

No  powder  spare! 

Scene  X. — A  la/nsquenet  followed  by  two  messengers;  the  former, 

Lans.  Two  messengers  have.  Sir, 

Just  now  arrived,  with  hurried  news  for  you. 

First  Mes.       [Stepping  forward.] 

Sir,  blame  me  not  if  now  I  bring  to  you 
Unwelcome  news.    The  knight  of  Renneberg, 
Who  in  Cleves'and  Julich  men  for  you  recruited. 
Has  sent  me  here.    An  edict  of  the  duke. 
That  threatens  loss  of  fief  and  life  to  him 
Who  joins  your  forces,  quickly  checked  the  flood 
That  poured  into  the  knight's  encampment.    Dashed 
Against  that  dam,  that  broke  their  further  increase, 
The  raw  recruits  lost  courage  and  dispersed. 

2nd  Mess.    The  same  thing  I  report  to  you  from  Limburg, 
Westphalia  and  the  district  of  Cologne, 
In  all  of  which,  with  equal  threats,  th*  Archbishop 
Prevents  th'  escape  of  riders  to  your  camp. 
[Indignation  among  the  nobles.] 

Franz,      [Scornfully.] 


IIP  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

Behold  how  expeditiously  and  harmonious 

Are  all  at  once  these  Princes,  otherwise 

So  wrangling  and  deliberative!     Why, 

It  borders  on  a  miracle!     I  barely 

This  good  sword  from  its  sheath  have  drawn,  to  pound 

rhem  into  one,  and — not  since  stands  the  realm 

I  such  a  case  recall! — lo,  smilingly 

My  wishes  granting,  there  they  come  and  hop 

To  meet  me! — Such  a  willingness  is  half 

The  victory;  deserves  to  be  recorded.  " 

My  thanks  for  your  good  tidings! 

\Exii   messengers,   and   Franz   turns   to   the   captains   and 
knights.] 

Who  of  you 

Needs  sharers  in  fame  and  booty?    Who 

So  poorly  holds  himself  as  to  believe 

He's  not  enough? 
All     [Enthusiastically.'] 

Not  one!  Franz,,  thrice  enough 

Are  we  so  long  your  spirit  guides  our  arms! 
Franz.    My  thanks! 
Frow.     [Almost  simultaneously.] 

Who's  that,  with  rapid  steps  approaching? 

His  roaming  eyes  denotes  he  looks  for  someone. 
Horseman.     [Enters  in  haste.] 

You  are  Franciscus!  Sir,  I  recognize  you! 

I'm  one  of  Michael  Minckwitzk'  riders,  who 

From  Brunswick  marchM  with  a  company 

Of  horse  and  fifteen  hundred  foot,  whom  he 

For  you  recruited.    Unexpectedly 

We're  fall'n  upon,  with  overpow'ring  force. 

By  Philip,  Hesse's  landgrave;  scatters  us 

Apart;  arrests  the  knight  Minckwitz  himself; 

And  takes  our  chest. — I  rode  my  horse  to  death 

To  bring  you  timely  notice. 
Franz.     [Aside  to  Joerg.] 

Badly  seem 

The  sentinels  their  duty  to  conceive. 

That  they  lead  not  these  messengers  aside 

Into  my  tent.    It  is  not  well  that  here. 

Before  th'  assembled  captains  of  my  army 

This  chase  of  messengers  of  evil  penetrates 

To  me. — 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  Ill 

lEwit  Joerg  <md  returns  shortly;  Franz  proceeds  addressing 
the  horseman.^ 
I  doubt  not  your  great  haste.    Had  you  but  stood 
As  firmly  as  you  ran,  you  would  have  back 
To  Darmstadt  whimp'ring  sent  the  baby  Philip. 
Bors.    The  bringer  of  bad  news  must  ever  ready  be 
To  have  his  hearer's  anger  fall  upon 
His  head.    And  yet  I  must  increase  it  still 
With  still  worse  news:  with  forcfed  marches  hitber 
Himself  the  landgrave  Philip's  hastening 
To  Treves'  relief. 

[Commotion  among  the  nobles  and  captains."] 
Franz.  Ye,  Sirs,  victory! 

[To  the  horseman."] 
You  are  a  cunning  fellow,  who  the  bad 
Beginning  of  his  tale  knows  good  again 
To  make  with  its  conclusion's  golden  words! 
A  horse  and  better  weapons  furnish  him. 

[To  the  nobles.] 
In  vain  I  studiously  was  seeking  how 
To  entice  th'  Archbishop  from  the  town.     We  now 
May  trust,  does  Philip  come,  he  could  no  more 
Contain  himself  within!     To  help  the  helper, 
The  priest  will  venture  in  the  open  field. 
One  blow  will  then  destroy  them  both,  provided 
Our  swords  are  still  the  same,  and  opes  the  town 
To  us. 
Frow.     [Impetuously  drawing  his  sword.] 

Hail,  Franz,  'Gainst  Philip  lead  us!     Vict'ry 
Is  by  your  banner  us  assured. 
All.    [With  swords  up.]  Hail,  Franz! 

Kurt.     [Outside.] 

Keep  me  back  from  my  master?    Me,  who  these 
Four  days  have  racing  been  with  minutes  swift 
To  find  him  so  much  sooner?    Lumb'ring  scamp! 

[Enters  dragging  in  two  lansquenets  who  seek  to  keep  him 
back,  and  whom  he  finally  throws  off;  he  drops  at  Franz's 
feet  with  all  the  signs  of  exhaustion.] 
Oh,  dear  master! — Finally  I  have  you! 
Franz.    How,  Kurt  ?    Is't  you  ?  What  brings  you  here  ?    I  left  you 
At  Landstuhl,  charged  with  Balthasar  the  burg 
To  keep.    What  do  you  here?    Come,  Kurt,  speak  up  I 
Kurt.      [Gasping  for  breath.] 


^^  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

Sir,  right  away — ^wait — can  no  more — I  am 

No  longer  the  old  Kurt — 'tis  now  four  days — 

I  have  become  a  grey  hound — 
Franz.  Bring  a  cup 

Of  wine  to  brace  him  up. 
Kurt.  A  new  lung,  rather — 

I  wish  they'd  fetch  me — Sir — ^the  old  one,  much 

I  fear — I  ran — to  pieces — 

[A   lansquenet  fetches  a  gohlet;  Kurt  seizes  it  with  both 
hands  and  drains  it  at  one  gulp.] 

Ah,  e'en  new  lungs 

Reside  in  bumpers! 
Franz.  Now!     Will  you  now  speak? 

Kurt.    Yes,  Sir — at  Landstuhl,  as  you  said,  you  left  me. 

With  Balthasar  o'er  me.    He  joined  me  to 

The  convoy  that  the  powder  kegs  conveyed 

To  you. 
Franz.  And  what  delayed  the  transport?  Speak! 

Kurt.     We  had  not  gone  a  full  day's  march,  when  us, 

In  peace — and  without  warning  of  a  feud — 

The  palsgrave  fell  upon,  and  all  the  kegs 

As  booty  took — 
Franz.     [Enraged.]     The  palsgra/ve  did  you  say? 

Thou  liestf  man! 
Kurt.  I,  lie.  Sir?    Hear  me  further! 

He  threw  us  down ;  made  us  his  prisoners ; 

But  that's  not  all.  Sir !  At  the  head  of  a 

Strong  army  he  is  hast'ning  hither  'gainst 

You.    Three  days  more,  and  he'll  be  where  now 

I  stand.    He  dragged  us  bound  behind  him.    But 

I  managed  to  escape.    I  ran  myself  to  death. 

To  bring  you  timely  warning.    Wait  you  here — 

You'll  then  see  whether  'tis  a  lie. 
Franz.     [Who  listened  with  utter  indignation  and  with  consterna- 
tion, to  Ulrich.] 

That,  that  went  to  my  heart! — Of  all  the  princes. 

Him  only  did  I  love,  to  him  alone 

My  heart  beat  trustingly.    In  hlood  the  bonds 

Of  steel  were  tempered  that  united  him 

To  me.    A  rebel  for  his  sake  against 

Th'  Imperial  Majesty,  and  out  of  loyalty 

To  him,  my  father  braved  the  scaffold:  him 

To  shield;  his  noble  head  laid  down  upon 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  113 

The  block.    The  loyalty,  baptizM  in 

My  father's  blood,  I  sacredly  preserved: — 

And  thus  the  son  of  Schweickhardt  he  rewards; 

Rewards  me  thus!     Of  all  things  but  for  that 

Was  I  prepared!    Him  only  as  a  foe 

I  ne'er  believed  to  see. — 

Now,  shattered  lie  my  plans !    With  one  fell  blow 

Both  human  kindness  and  the  ingenuity 

Of  man  are  crushed  by  vile  Princes'  pride ! 
awhile  Ulrich  embraces  him  with  deepest  sympathy,  he  steps 
hack  into  the  ranks,  where,  since  KurVs  report,  murmurs 
and  commotion  had  increased."] 
Furs,    Meseems  the  game  puts  on  an  ugly  face. 

We're  lost  if  here  for  them  we  longer  wait. 
Frow.      No  more  so  than  if  we  retreat :  if  we 

Retreat,  th'  Elector  surely  will  pursue  us. 
Zol.  You  may  depend,  that  he  will  surely  do. 
Frow.    Pursued,  surrounded  by  a  triple  army — 

How  would  you  your  retreat  effect?     What  say  you 
Zol.    I?    I  say  not  a  word!     Escape  I  see 

As  little  as  yourself. 
Franz.     [Who  has  stood  the  while  with  his  arms  crossed,  again  steps 
forward.l 

Who  says  we're  lost? 

Aye,  what's  lost?    Are  you  men  or  worshippers 

At  strumpet  Fortune's  shrine?    Wilt  woo  her  when 

She  smiles,  and  tremble  at  her  fickle  frown? 

The  strong  man  forces  her,  a  slave  unto 

His  will,  her  willing  smile  to  give  again. 

Not  at  the  end,  we  stand  here  at  the  start 

Of  our  power  and  our  purposes. 

A  triple  army  threatens  us — aye,  worse, 

The  want  of  powder.    Yes,  we  must  decamp. 

I'll  lead  you  through  the  mountain  steeps,  and  bring 

You  safe  behind  the  foe.    Woe  to  him, 

Who'd  dare  my  retreat  to  bar !    To  save 

His  army  is  a  general's  first  duty. 

Your  minds  you  may  make  free;  encroach  not  on 

Franciscus'  cares  and  office.    Once  the  foe 

The  slip  we've  given,  I'll  disband  the  bulk 

Of  th'  army — 
Furs.  What!     Disband  the  army  while 

Those  three  remain  in  arms  against  yourself? 


il4  FRANZ  VON  SlCKlNGfiiJ. 

Frafus.    How  could  I  such  an  army  winter  in  my  burgs? 
Or  should  I  quarter  them  upon  my  friends. 
And  thus,  before  the  struggle  is  begun, 
Consume  their  means?     Besides,  it  does  not  press 
This  year.    Winter's  breaking  in.    They'll  ne'er 
At  such  a  season,  dare  the  Ebernburg 
To  approach.    Before,  howe'er,  the  army  I 
Disband,  the  pledge  I'll  take  from  all  the  captains 
That,  with  the  first  rays  of  the  spring's  warm  sun. 
Equipped,  and  strengthened  with  new  levies,  all 
The  squadrons  they  shall  lead  back  in  my  camp. 

Furs.    But  what  propose  you  with  the  palsgrave  to — 

Franz.    Twelve  noble  youths  upon  their  swords'  point  shall 
To  him  from  Sickingen  the  challenge  bear — 
Renounce  my  further  fealty  to  him. 

[To  UlricM 
You,  Ulrich,  I  will  send  to  mighty  Zurich, 
Whose  brave  confederates  their  help  have  long 
Been  proffering  to  me,  if  ever  needed. 
I  need  it  now !    There,  where  you  loved  and  honored 
Are,  press  the  proffered  help.    Lead  to  my  burgs 
Strong  files  of  yon  axe-wielding,  brave  reserves. 

[To  the  knights.'\ 
With  you  I  shall  a  day  appoint  at  Schweinfurt; 
Assemble  there  with  your  kith  and  kin; 
The  whole  nobility  I  will  convene 
To  a  conference.    It  is  for  you  now  true 
To  prove  that  which  at  Landau  you  did  swear. 
Our  federation's  members  all  must  arm  themselves; 
To  arms  I'll  call  the  Nation's  full  knighthood! 

All,     Rely  on  us,  as  on  yourself  you  would! 

Franz.    A  trial  only  was  this  slight  campaign. 
Next  year  we'll  execute  the  final  work! 
Exposed  is  now  the  hand  of  our  foes. 
A  clear  line  now  parts  enemy  from  friend. 
The  vict'ry's  ours,  provided  true  to  you 
Your  former  valor  keeps.     We  now  our  full 
Strength  will  deploy,  and  did  not  so  before. 
The  winter  for  recruiting  utilize — 
A  signal  unto  all  the  new  sun  be. 
The  first  breath  of  returning  spring  shall  both 
Of  winter's  ice  and  tyrants'  chain  emancipate 
Our  country's  soil. — ^&  new  year  brings  a  Nation  new. 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  115 

AU.    The  new  year,  hail !  and  hail  your  steady  fortune ! 
[The  curtain  closes.'] 

ACT  V. 

Scene  I. — A  vaulted  and  strongly  constructed  tower-chamber  in  the 
burg  of  Landstuhl,  which  is  closely  besieged  by  the  confederated 
Princes — the  Palsgrave  Ludwig,  the  Landgrave  Philip  and  the 
Archbishop  Richard,  Fbanz  is  in  an  arm-chair,  in  full  armor 
but  without  helmet.  A  few  steps  behind  him,  Balthasab  en- 
gaged in  reading  letters  and  indicting  messages  in  cipher.  At 
the  opposite  end  of  the  chamber,  the  knight  of  Rudesheim  at  a 
table  with  a  bumper  of  wine  before  him.  Marie  enters  and 
leaves  the  chamber  in  the  course  of  household  duties.  From 
time  to  time,  the  booming  of  cannon  is  heard. 

Bud.     [Rising  and  violently  laying  down  the  bumper  of  wine  that 
he  had  carried  to  his  lips.] 

Abominable!     E'en  the  wine  no  longer  tastes! 

And  justly  so!     When  out  the  spark  of  manhood  goes 

Fidelity,  the  country's  wine,  may  well  to  gall 

Be  turned,  this  craven  generation's  joys  of  life 

Embitter. 
Franz.  Oh,  Rudesheim!     Slander  not 

Our  friends  imtil  their  fault  is  manifest. 
Rud.    How  can  it  clearer  be  ?    Is  not  our  plight 

Sufficient  proof?    The  crashing  of  the  foe's 

Besieging  guns  ?    And  this  last  hole,  that  ill 

Could  long  protect  us  from  their  murd'rous  shot? 
Franz.    You  know,'  much  earlier  did  the  foe  appear 

Than  I  myself  expected  him  to  see. 

Our  friends  have  no  suspicion  of  our  plight. 
Rud.    If  th'  enemy's  hate  could  be  beforehand,  why 

Should  not  the  zeal  of  our  friends?     Besides, 

Have  you  not  letter  upon  letter  plied, 

In  cipher  neatly  framed  by  Balthasar? 
Balth.    Not  all  the  letters  safely  reach  their  destination, 

And  quicker  does  the  foe's  suspicious  eye 

A  runner's  cloak  see  through  than  he  the  foe's 

Besieging  army  could  run  through. 
Rud.  Nonsense ! 

Since  long  has  spring  set  in.    Of  their  own 


116  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

Accord  they  long  ago  should  here  have  been. 
Franz.    Indeed,  from  day  to  day  have  I  relief 

Expected,  both  from  them,  and  from  the  troops 

I  ordered  to  recruit. 
Rud.  'Tis  now  a  full 

Eight  days  youVe  nursed  these  hopes ;  but  this  is  clear 

To  me,  no  second  week  you'll  have  to  wait : 

We  may  before  that  time  be  buried  'neath 

The  ruins  of  this  tower.    Strong  it  is. 

But  still,  not  at  the  Ebernburg  are  we. 

The  indomitable  fort!     They  there  might  long 

Have  shot;  nor  could  they  there  ever  thus 

Have  hemmed  us  in 

[J.  frightful  crash  is  heard  over  the  roof  of  the  tower;  all 
except  Fram,«  start  up  alarmed.'] 
Hark!     Hark! 
[Anxiously  inspecting  the  roof.] 

How  long  think  you — 

Before  these  blocks  of  stone  will  roll  upon 

Us  down,  and  nine-pins  play  upon  our  heads? 
Frane,     [Rising  and  walking  through  the  chamber  vnth  his  arms 
crossed,  and  muttering  to  himself.] 

'Tis  true!     In  all  my  life  I  have  not  heard 

Such  frightful  cannonade!     Not  even  in 

Th'  imperial  wars  was  anything  like  this. 
Rud.    And  heaven  only  knows  whence  they  have  dragged 

So  many  pieces  of  artillery. 
Franz.    Within  so  short  a  time,  so  closely  pressed 

To  be  in  such  a  fortifiM  place — 

I  never  would  have  thought  it!     Much  it  looks. 

Besides,  as  if  some  spirit  in  each  ball 

Did  lodge — as  though  they  accurately  knew 

Each  secret  of  the  burg.     Its  weakest  spots 

The  cannons  ever  hit.    This  is  remarkable! 
[Stops  meditatively.] 
Balth.     The  devil  fights  for  his  own  ministers. 
Rud.     [Clenching  his  fist.] 

With  rage  I  boil !     To  think  we  here  must  lie 

A  target  for  their  shot,  while  in  the  field 

We  could  ourselves  the  crew  knock  in  a  heap! 
Franz.     [Resumes  his  seat.] 

Be  still!     And  should  the  tower  fall,  we  then 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  117 

Shall  in  the  rock-groove  safety  find. 
Rtid.  So  that 

Like  an  entrappfed  toad  they  drag  you  from 

The  heap  of  stone?    Well  may  you  free  of  blame 

Our  friends  pronounce!     The  largest  share  yourself 

Do  bear.    Upon  yourself  more  hot  alights 

The  rage  that  boils  within  my  veins. 
Franz.  On  met 

Rud.     You  understand  me  well!  Is  it  myself 

I  care  for?    Upon  your  freedom,  on 

Your  safety  all  depended.  With  you  stands 

Or  falls  our  federation.    Yours  the  blame 

For  our  distress!     I  speak  not  now  of  your 

Untimely  magnanimity  when  all 

The  friends,  that  now  have  left  you  in  the  lurch, 

With  th'  army  you  disbanded.     No!     But  here. 

In  Landstuhl,  lock  yourself  instead  of  in 

Your  strongest  fort,  the  Ebemburg 

Franz.    [Almost  angrily.]  You  know. 

The  enemy  surprised  me  here — 
Rud.  Surprised? 

With  still  a  half  day  in  which  to  move,  before 

The  en'my*s  cavalry  appeared  upon 

The  forest's  skirts,  three  hundred  men 

Did  you  dismiss,  lest  space  and  rations  failed 

Ourselves.    Oh,  how  I  begged  you  to  withdraw 

With  them!     In  fullest  safety  could  you  then 

Have  gone — but  you 

Franz.     [With  an  effort.]    Disgraceful  had  it  been 

From  such  a  etrong  place  in  the  en'my's  face 

To  flee,  without  the  firing  of  a  shot! 

How  would  it  have  become  my  place,  intent 

Upon  myself  alone,  the  nobles  and 

My  trusty  men,  who  for  protection  threw 

Themselves  into  this  burg,  here  helpless  to 

Forsake! 
Rud.  So  said  you  then,  and  that  it  is 

That  I  can  never  pardon  you!     What  of 

Such  men  as  them  and  me!     The  only  prize 

Are  you.     Our  cause  would  brilliantly  have  stood 

Had  you  but  ridden  off — the  burg  I  could 

Have  held  as  well  as  you. 


iki  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

Franz.  The  presence  of 

The  general  gives  courage  to  his  men, 

Their  veins  warms  with  determination's  fire. 
Rud.    E'en  so!     The  burg  I  would  have  held,  have  held 

As  long  as  e'er  a  stone  remained  upon 

Another.    And  e'en  if  they  took  it,  what 

Was  lost?    With  half  an  army  had  they  paid 

For  but  a  dreary  heap  of  ruins,  while 

At  Ebernburg  you  would  be  laughing  in 

Their  face.    They  would  not  have  to  such  a  pass 

Brought  us.     If  free,  you  could  yourself  the  friends 

Have  spurred.     That  would  the  laggards  have  inspired. 

Their  forces  heading,  now  upon  his  rear, 

You  could  the  enemy  assail. 
Franz.  It  is 

The  sluggish  steed  that  needs  the  rider's  spur. 

What  stronger  spur  is  there  than  the  pledged  word? 
Bud.    You  see  yourself  how  standeth  that.     What  all 

Was  promised  you!     As  far  as  from  Bohemia 

Were  men  to  come.    Not  one  has  come!     When  then 

Imploringly  I  urged  you  thither  march. 

Your  answer  was  you  would,  when  proper  time 

Had  come.    The  time  has  come!    Now  show  me  hovr. 

Unless  you  wings  can  take,  the  feat  you  could 

Accomplish. 
Marie.     [Entering   with   a   goblet   of   wine   which   she   presents    to 
Rudesheim.'] 

Now,  Sir  Knight,  I  other  wine 

Have  here.     It  is  of  our  best.     It  will 

Taste  surely  good,  and  soften  your  displeasure. 

Please  take,  and  drink,  and  vex  my  father  not 

With  these  reproaches. 
Rud.  Charming  maid!    Your  voice 

Much  better  than  the  wine  drives  off  whate'er 

Displeasure  I  might  feel.    An  angel  are  you! 

I  think  to  you  alone  we  owe  that  still 

The  burg  refuses  o'er  our  heads  to  tumble  down. 

It  is  a  touching  sight  how,  not  a  word 

Complaining,  mild  and  smiling,  you  support 

The  trials  of  the  siege. 
Franz.     \Nodding  his  daughter  to  come  to  him;  she  leans  over  and 

cuddles  close  to  her  father."] 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  119 

Marie!     [Fondling  herJl 
Philip! 
See,  now,  how  wrong  you  are!     You  praise  bestow 
On  her  that  she  remained;  yet  did  she  not 
Sin  grievously  her  father  to  deceive? 
The  day  that  I  the  mounted  troops  sent  off, 
With  them  I  ordered  her  to  part.     But  she. 
Conspiring  with  her  maid,  seemed  leave  to  take, 
While  one  of  her  attendants,  in  her  velvets, 
Herself  impersonated.    I  could  not 
Descend  below.    My  time  was  too  engaged. 
She  kept  herself  concealed ;  and  when  the  foe 
Appeared —     [Fondling  her.'] 

The  impostress  turned  up  in  the  evening. 

Rud.    And  right  she  was.    Her  place  is  next  to  you 

[A   crash,  produced   ty   the   enemy^s   cannon,   heavier  than 
before,  and  followed  hy  the  rush  of  tumhUng  masonry, 
starts  all  except  Franz,  who   looks  around  from   his 
seat.] 
Franz.    A  hard  knock  that  one  was.    It  cost  a  good 
Piece  of  the  wall.     Go,  Philip,  see  what  damage 
That  shot  has  done.    The  rip  repair  quick. 
Rud.     [Putting  on  his  helmet.]     I  shall  do  so! 

[Exit  Rudesheim  in  haste;  also  Marie,  silently.] 

Scene  II. — Franz;  Balthasar  leans  lack  from  his  desk.  A  short 
pause.  Franz  directs  upon  him  a  long  and  inquiring  look, 
Balthasar  looks  blankly  before  him. 

Franz.    Now,  Balthasar? 

Balth.  ^  Sir? 

Franz.  Have  not  you  also 

Some  cross  reproach  in  readiness?    Your  cold. 

Contracted  mien  denotes  it  clearly. 

Speak  up — the  army  I  disbanded,  have 

Before  the  foe  not  wished  to  flee,  and  have. 

Who  knows,  what  other  things  done  wrong!     Speak  openly t 

Cut  up  among  yourselves  the  drooping  lion's  skin — 

Of  all  of  these,  what  do  you  blame  me  on? 
Balth.     [Solemnly.] 

I?    Nothing! 
Franz.     [Rises  and  walks  the  chamber.] 

Then,  indeed,  must  matters  badly. 


120  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

Aye,  very  badly  stand  with  me,  if  now 
Not  even  a  reproach  has  Balthasar  for  me! 

Balth.  You  err!  To  youngish  fools  I  leave  the  task 
To  carp  at  things  that  but  the  sequence  are 
Of  the  once  treaded  path.  The  path  is  what 
Concerns  us,  not  the  separate  steps,  that  one 
By  one  the  path  compels,  and,  closely  linked, 
Contrives. 

Franz.  What  are  you  driving  at? 

Balth.  Sir,  have 

You  any  faith  in  death's  presentiments? 

Franz.    Old  man,  what  is  upon  your  mind? 

Balth.  That  man 

His  hour  of  death  fore-feels,  believe  I  not. 
But  this  he  does—his  deadly  enemyy 
There  is  no  creature  but  fore-feels  instinctively — 
It  seems  a  law  to  be  that  runs  through  Nature, 
Itself  in  e'en  the  animals  asserting. 
The  bird,  its  fate  fore-feeling,  trembles  shy 
In  terror  at  the  rattlesnake's  regard; 
Before  the  hot  simoon  is  nigh,  with  eyes 
Shut,  down  upon  the  earth  the  camel  throws 
Himself  affrighted.    Still  more  powerful 
This  instinct  active  is  in  man.    Unto 
Your  friend  you  must  yourself  reveal,  and  oft 
In  vain  the  friendly  assurance  give.    Alone 
The  enemy,  howe'er  yourself  you  may 
Disguise,  fore-feels  you  at  once — his  gauge  is  true. 
His  hatred  far  more  rightly  takes  your  measure 
Than  does  the  mass ;  more  rightly  than  your  friend. 
Life's  instinct  quickly  scents  the  danger  that 
Your  being  threatens  his  withal.    Strong  men 
Are  by  the  enemy  detected  long 
Before  their  friends  draw  hopefully  to  them. 
Thus  Sulla  of  old  did  long  before  foretell 
The  then  still  stripling  Caesar  would  the  old 
Nobility  of  Rome  cast  down,  when  still 
No  Marius  friend  in  him  the  queller  saw 
Of  th'  ancient  optimates. 

Franz.  What  has  all  that 

With  our  present  case  to  do? 

Balth.  What  has 

It  with  our  present  case  to  do?    You  knew 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  121 

It  not ;  and  for  you  knew  it  not  you  now 

So  dearly  pay!     The  Princes  did  you  think 

With  the  campaign  'gainst  Treves  to  hoodwink?     They, 

You  thought,  would  take  it  for  a  mere  feud, 

A  simple  issue  'tween  yourself  and  Richard! 

The  Princes  you  did  not  deceive.    By  an 

Unerring  instinct  led,  in  you  their  hate 

The  deadly  en'my  of  their  station  saw. 

In  all  the  courts  of  Germany  the  word 

Resounded  loud:     Not  since  there  Princes  were 

Did  ever  such  a  common  danger  rise? 

Your  friends  alone  you  carefully  deceived — 

A  Nation  in  this  feud  concerned  was — 

Hence  stirs  she  not:     The  towns,  the  peasants — all 

Leave  you  with  your  own  strength  the  private  feud 

To  end,  while  the  initial  failure  drives 

The  nohles  timid  from  the  open — 
{Raising  his  voice."] 

Yourself  the  arteries  of  your  strength 

Have  bound ;  the  heart's  own  life  blood  back  you  drove 

That  would  have  flowed  to  you — 
Franz.  Oh,  Balthasar! 

Desist;  oppress  me  not  with  your  reproach. 

It  could  not  otherwise  be  done — 'twas  still 

Too  soon  to  openly  declare  myself. 

The  town  of  Treves,  strategic  place,  of  all 

I  needed  first.    The  plan  was  good,  and  well 

Was  ev'ry  calculation  made.     Who  can 

Control  the  whim  of  accident — who  may 

Convert  it  cryelly  into  a  charge? 
Balth.    Oh,  call  not  accident  what  is  effect! 

Because  on  accident  we  can  not  count, 

'Tis  folly  on  its  slipp'ry  head  to  place 

The  fate  of  time.    Was  it  too  early  still? 

You  should  then  quietly  have  known  to  wait. 

But  once  you  sallied  forth,  your  part  had  been 

To  openly  'gainst  Charles  the  banner  raise; 

The  reformation  of  the  Church  and  realm 

With  large  strokes,  plainly  legible  upon 

Your  banner  to  inscribe;  or  better  yet, 

By  virtue  of  the  title  and  the  right, 

Boldly  as  Emperor  yourself  proclaim — 


122  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

Unchain  the  Nation's  flood,  that  painfully 

Its  banks  restrain.    That  had  been  wiser  than 

To  play  with  friends  at  blind-man's  buff — a  game 

That  Minded  not  a  single  man  among  your  foes. 

— Well  calculated,  said  you?    Aye!     It  was 

That  very  thing!     You're  thrown  down  by  your  cleverness. 

The  greater  deed  you  could  have  carried  out; 

The  smaller  you  can  not! 

Oh,  not  the  first  are  you,  and  will  not  be 

The  last  his  neck  to  break  at  the  attempt 

In  great  things  cleverness  to  try.    Disguise 

Will  never  stead  upon  the  stage  of  history. 

Where,  in  the  masses'  turmoil,  man  is  known 

But  by  his  armor  and  device.    Therefore, 

From  head  to  foot  yourself  wrap  bold 

Within  the  folds  of  your  true  colors.    Then 

You  draw  in  the  gigantic  struggle  on 

The  full  resources  of  your  actual  aim. 

And  stand  or  fall  in  fullest  exercise 

Of  all  your  powers.     Not  your  fall  is  what 

Most  shocks,  but  that  you  fall  in  fullest  bloom 

Of  your  unconquered,  unavail&d  strength. 

— 'Tis  that  that  least  a  hero  can  endure. 
Franz.     [Who  has  been  pacing  the  chamber  with  increasing  agiti 

Hon,  stops  suddenly.l 

So,  then,  you  take  me  really  for  lost? 
Balth.    Sir,  did  I  so,  such  language  never  would 

I  hold  to  you,  and  gall  your  great  soul  with 

Reproach's  sting!     No!     Nothing  yet  is  lost, 

That  boldness  could  not  doubly  win  again. 

How,  Sir,  is  this  mouse-hole  the  limit  of 

Franciscus'  power  ?    Sir,  in  yoUj  your  name 

The  confidence  that  in  the  people's  heart 

In  warm  pulsation  throbs  for  you — in  that 

Your  power  lies.    The  thick  walls  of  this  burg 

But  keep  away  the  Nation  and  your  own 

Strength  from  yourself.     Ill  bears  the  land  the  load 

Of  the  contemned  temporal  regime. 

Or  clergy's  tyranny;  ere  long  it  may 

Attempt  the  yoke  to  throw,  aye,  e'en  without 

Your  aid! — 

[Confidentially  approaching  Franz  and  in  a  lower  tone.^ 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  123 

Sir,  when  in  Alsace  and  the  upper  lands 

I  was  for  you  recruiting,  many  an  odd 

Thing  did  I  learn,  and  many  a  secret  spied. 

It  seethes  among  the  peasants!     Something  brews! 

It  spreads  afar  through  all  the  provinces. 

As  under  scanty  coatings  lies  concealed 

The  pregnant,  devastating  lap  of  the 

Volcano,  now  a  conflagration  gleams 

Below  the  surface — 

-{With  toarmth.]     Speak  the  right  word,  and 

The  fires,  that  now  flicker  in  the  dark. 

Will  outward  leap  in  lambent  tongues  of  flame. 

The  country  call,  and  hundred  thousand  peasants 

Will  rise — a  ready  army  at  your  will. 

Pronounce  the  word,  and  uttering  it  bestow 

All  Germany  upon  yourself  for  army, 

Yourself  upon  all  Germany  for  leader! 
Franz,     [Oreatly  moved  and  raising  his  hands  to  heoAjenJ] 

I  will — that  is 

[Dropping  his  armsJ] 

I  toish  I  could!  but,  oh! 

You  dream!     Do  you  forget  that  in  this  burg 

An  army  holds  me  prisoner? 
Balth.     [Approaching  Franz  icith  a  scrutinizing  loofe.] 

Therefore, 

The  problem  is  the  means  to  find  for  free 

Egress.    Suppose  you  purchased  that  by  the 

Surrender  of  this  burg? 
Franz.  Surrender  it? — 

And  even  if  I  willed  can  you  believe 

That  they  would  enter  into  such  a  pact? 

Of  war  the  custom  immemorial  is, 

Before  the  investment  of  a  burg,  to  summon  its 

Surrender,  granting  the  withdrawal  of 

Its  garrison,  provided  that,  without 

The  firing  of  a  shot,  the  place  it  yield. 
Balth.    I  know. 
Franz.  And  also  know  that  when  they  invested  me— 

Although  they  safely  could  have  done  so,  free 

From  fear  of  acceptance,  as  they  knew 

Themselves — to  me  no  summons  issued  they. 

They  acted  thus,  when  strong  still  was  the  burg, 


124  FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN. 

When  more  than  once  I  drove  them  back  with  sallies. 

Broke  through  their  trenches,  and  was  buoyed  up  with 

The  daily  expectation  of  relief. 

And  now,  now  when  I'm  locked  in  tight,  the  burg 

Almost  demolished — now  you  think  they'd  grant  us  that? 

Oh,  that  they'll  never  do.    It  is  myself. 

And  not  the  burg,  they  are  striving  to  secure. 

Balth.    Nor  did  I  mean  it  so.    Now  listen.  Sir! 

In  first  rate  trim,  withal  well-manned  and  officered. 
Your  other  burgs  the  en'my  still  defy. 
The  Drachenfels,  the  Hohenburg,  'bove  all, 
The  Ebernburg,  gives  them  concern.    They  will 
Approach  them  but  with  dread.     E'en  in 
Your  absence  could  the  en'my  never  hope, 
If  ever  they  succeed,  without  a  long 
Protracted  siege  to  force  them.    Besides — 
They  know  not  yet  how  closely  pinched  we  here 
Are  now.     Indeed,  they  otherwise  would  not 
Accept  the  proposition.     Now,  howe'er — 
How  would  it  be  if  to  their  harm  you  could 
Succeed  to  bribe  them?    All  your  burgs  surrender. 
In  payment  for  your  safe  withdrawal  hence. 

Franz.    [With  a  startJ] 

You  rave!     The  Ebernburg!     The  bulwark  of 
My  power! — Shall 

Balth.     [With  pathos.']  The  Nation  languishes 

Outside  their  walls ;  she's  waiting  for  your  orders. 

Franz.     [Impatiently  stamping  on  the  floor.] 

Where  are  the  men!     Where  are  they  all,  I  pray — 
Aremberg,  Horn,  Furstenberg!     The  Swiss, 
The  men  of  Strasburg,  those  of  Landau,  where! 
Where  are  they  now,  the  men  who  once  so  much, 
So  much  did  promise — ^yet  so  little  kept  ? 

Balth.     [Deeply  moved.] 

And  if  they  came  they  now  would  come  too  late! 
Sir,  grieve  not  thus.     An  easier  struggle  than 
The  present  conquers  back  whate'er  you  lost. 
What  cares  he,  who  would  a  whole  world  win. 
Some  clods  of  land  to  cast  away!     But,  Sir, 
Reflect,  'bove  all  the  time  cries  haste.     Should  now 
Some  accident  reveal  to  them  our  stress, 
They'll  never  do  it! 


FRANZ  VON  SICKINGEN.  ISM^ 

Frana.     [After  a  violent  internal  struggle.^ 

Call  the  herald  in! 

[Exit  Balthasar,  and  presently  returns  with  herald^ 

Herald!     To  th'  enemy  I  send  you  forth. 

I  order  you  this  charge  to  hurl  at  them: — 

On  me  you  have  the  laws  of  war  infringed; 

Ye  have  the  hurg  not  summoned.    Now  do  I 

My  right  demand,  the  right  you  faiUd  in. 

In  guarantee  of  safe  withdrawal  by 

AW  living,  now  the  burg  I  leave  to  them. 
[Herald  hows."] 
Balth.     And  is  that  all  you  have  to  say  to  themT 
Franz.    Oh,  Balthasar!    I  can  not — can  no  further  got 

I  can  myself  not  offer  what  with  shame. 

Repugnance  only  I  could  grant.    If  they 

Bade  such  condition — then,  perhaps — ^but  I — 

Myself — no,  never!     Never,  Balthasar! 
Balth.    I  fully  understand  you.  Sir!  Myself 

The  herald  will  accompany.    I  will 

The  en'my  seek,  will  lead  his  tongue  that  it 

The  prearranged  place  may  reach,  and  down 

Lay  the  conditions  that  we're  ready  to 

Accept. 
Fra/nz,     [Embracing  him."] 

Upon  your  tongue  I  leave  my  honor, 
Balth,    Rely  on  me. 

[They  embrace  again;    exit    Balthasar    with    the    herald 
through  one  door,  Franz  through  another. 

Scene  III. — A  tap-room  in  an  isolated  inn  of  the  Upper  Rhine,  li 
is  late  in  tffe  evening.  The  room  is  dark.  A  strong  rap  is  heard 
at  the  door. 

Inn-keeper.    [From  a  side  room."] 
Yes!  Yes! 

[The  rapping  continues.^ 

I'm  coming. 
[The  rapping  redoubles;  inn-keeper  enters  unth  a  lantern.'] 
Patience!    Not  so  hard; 
Who  is  it  raps  so  heathenishly  there? 

[Reaches  the  door  and  opens.'] 
Well !    Well ! !  For  one  who  through  such  hellish  storm 
On  foot  foots  it;  you  make  a  devilish  noise! 


126  FRANZ  VON  ZICKINGEN. 

Jos.  Fritz.     [Disguised  with  a  large  heard,  and  a  Ug  patch  acrosi 
his  face.'] 

Hew!      [Makes  a  secret  sign  to  the  inn-keeper.] 
Jnnk.    What?    One  of  our  brotherhood?  Oh,  then 
Excuse  me! 

[Jos  Fritz  steps  forward  and  removes  his  false  beard  and 
plaster;  his  garb  is  a  somewhat  fantastical  imitation 
of  a  knighVs  costume;  around  his  waist  he  carries  a 
belt  in  which  several  daggers  a/nd  a  sword  are  stuck. 
The  inn-keeper,  who  carefully  re-closed  the  door,  re- 
turns to  the  new  arrival.] 

What!  Is't  you,  Jos  Fritz?   Welcome, 
Most  heartily!     And  have  you  just  arrived? 
Joa.     [His  speech  is  rapid  and  jerky.] 
Arrived  last  night  in  this  vicinity. 
To-day  I  made  the  rounds  of  the  surrounding  farms. 
Innk.    Where  come  you  from?   Where  were  you?    Have  ye  news 

For  me  ? 
Jos.  Hoho!  You  fall  upon  me  like 

A  gate-clerk,  and  no  time  to  answer  do 
You  give  me  with  your  string  of  questions.    Long 
I've  been  away.    Have  traveled  far.    And  now 
I  bring  you  weighty  tidings.    Not  a  few. 
The  thing  progresses  well.    Where'er  I  came 
In  all  the  German  districts,  ready  is 
The  peasant  for  the  plow.    Th*  extortions  of 
The  priests,  th'  oppression  of  the  Lords  have  reached 
Their  limit.    Far  and  wide  is  ev'ry  thing 
In  first-class  readiness.    But  little  now 
We  need  and — ^th'  hour  strikes.    The  first  event, 
That  fitting  seems,  will  be  the  signal  for 
The  start. — But  this  is  not  the  time  to  chat. 
You  soon  will  hear  more.     I  hither  have 
Convened  the  brothers  of  the  commons.     I 
Expect  them  any  moment.    Hurry  up. 
Bring  here  some  lights — 

[A  rap  is  heard  at  the  door.] 

Hoho!  They're  rapping  now. 
Shall  myself  open,  and  the  pass-word  take. 
Meanwhile  attend  to  your  affairs,  but  place 
The  lights  far  back,  that  they  may  leave  the  door 
Aa  dark  as  possible. 


fRANZ  VON  ZICKINGEN.  I2t 

[The  inn-keeper  steps  into  an  adjoining  room  whence  he 
fetches  lights,  chairs  a/nd  bumpers,  which  he  arranges 
at  and  on  a  long  table  at  one  comer  of  the  room;  Jos 
Fritz  goes  to  the  door  and  partly  opens  i^.] 
The  pass-word!     Speak!  What  kind  of  fellow's  that? 
1st  Peasant.    We  can  not  heal  of  priests  and  noblemen. 
Jos,    That's  right.  Draw  near. 

{Shuts  the  door;  to  the  peasant,  who  has  proceeded  to  take 
off  his  mantle  and  slouch  hat  that  had  hidden  his  facej} 
Oh,  Hans  of  the  Mats! 
[Oives  him  his  Twnd.ll 
1st  P.    Am  I  the  first? 

Jos.  The  first.  But  you'll  not  have 

To  wait  a  long  time.    Easy  make  yourself. 

[A  rap  hea/rd  at  the  door.'\ 
Hoho!    Hallo!     I  told  you  so.    They  come. 

[Hastens  to  the  door  to  open  it  as  before.'] 
The  pass-word!     Speak!     What  kind  of  fellow's  that? 
tnd  P.    We  can  not  heal  of  priests  and  noblemen. 
Jos.    Good!  Step  in! 

Jnnk,    [Who  has  in  the  meantime  arranged  the  chairs  and  bumpers.1 
So,  now  I  am  ready,  and  can 
Relieve  you. 

[Stations  himself  at  the  door  while  Jos  Fritz  steps  forward 
again;  in  rapid  succession  enter  several  peasants  whom 
the  inn-keeper  admits  after  a  whispered  exchange  of 
words;  some  of  the  peasants  sit  down  at  the  table,  others 
surround  Jos  Fritz  and  converse  in  whispers.] 
tnd  P.  .    Then  you  think  we  may  upon 

The  towns  depend? 
*tos.  Hm!  As  I  told  you,  Jacklein, 

The  lower  townsfolk  everywhere  are  found 
Inclined  to  us;  in  many  places  are 

The  artisans  our  friends.    'Tis  otherwise  I 

Among  the  councilmen  and  retainers.    If  i 

Alone  we  in  the  movement  stand,  they  ne'er 
Will  join  the  peasant.    But  in  case  of  need. 
They'll  be  compelled, 
tnd.  P.  I  think  we're  now  complete. 

You  may  begin,  Jos. 
«^o».  Take  your  seats.  You  all. 


128  FRAN2  VON  ZICKINGEN. 

{They  sit  down;  Jos  Fritz  takes  the  chairmanship  at  the 
head  of  the  table.] 
We  should  be  fifteen.    Are  we  all  together  ? 
3rd  P.    The  crooked  Stephen  is  not  here. 
A  Peas,  I  am! 

3rd  P.    We're  then  complete. 
4th  P.  Fifteen. 

Jos.  Fifteen.    None  fails. 

Iiet's,  then,  begin.    But  first  the  door  lock. 

{The  inn-keeper  steps  to  the  door  and  turns  the  key,  and  re- 
turns to  the  table.'] 
My  brothers!     You  are  now  assembled  for 
The  purpose  of  receiving  my  report. 
And  also  instructions  for  your  further  conduct. 
The  hour  now  is  near  when — 

{Hard  raps  at  the  door;  all  listen  toith  intent  attention,] 
2nd  P.  Some  one 

Is  rapping!  who  could  that  be? 
Innk.  I  won't  open. 

Other  Peasants.     Indeed,  not! 

1st  P.  Yet  it  might  attention  call 

If  you  refuse  to  open. 

{The  raps  are  repeated.] 
3rd  P.  Think  of  it! 

It  might  be  spies! 
Jos,  Then  all  the  more  would  it 

Be  necessary  to  admit  the  man. 

{Pointing  significantly  to  his  armed  belt.] 
Dumbness — alone  insures  us  against 
A  spy's  mouth. 
4th  P.  Yes,  Jos  Fritz!  And  if  it  such 

A  scamp  is — 
Jos.     {Angrily.]    Put  your  knife  away,  Hans  Thoughtless! 
You're  always  running  over. 
{The  raps  continue;  to  the  peasants.] 

All  assume  an 
Unconcerned  mien,  as  though  you  sat 
Here  comfortably  drinking. 

{To  the  inn-keeper.]     Now,  you  open. 
Innk,    If  so  you  will. 

Jos.  Hold!      Give  me  time  to  put 

On  my  disguise. 


FRANZ  VON  ZICKINGEN.  '  129 

[Re-assumes  his  plaster  and  false    heard;    the    inn-keeper 
opens.] 

Scene  IV. — Uleich  von  Hutten;  the  former. 

See  to  my  horse. 
[Exit  inn-keeper;  Ulrich  steps  forward.] 

This  is 
A  howling  night!  How  much  at  one  are  both 
The  weather  and  my  breast!     The  rain  beats  down 
In  torrents,  and,  torrential,  rush  sad  thoughts 
Across  my  soul,  all  manly  fortitude 
Unloos'ning.     As  the  lightning's  yellow  sheen 
With  hurried,  flick'ring  flash  the  darkness  lights, 
Uncertainty  shoots,  painful,  through  my  breast. 
In  fear's  glaring  light  revealing  the 
Unknown  condition  of  my  friend. 

{While  speaking,  Ulrich  has  taken  off  his  cap,  mantle  and 
gloves,  and  laid  them  on  a  table  in  the  opposite  corner 
where  the  peasants  are  seated;  all  the  while  these  hav( 
affected  to  he  engaged  in  general  conversation,  hut  care 
fully  scrutinized  Ulrich,  Jos  Fritz  above  all.] 
Jos.     [To  himself.] 

This  knight,  I  think,  I  know. 
Ulrich.     [To  the  inn-keeper  who  just  re-enters.] 

Are  you  the  inn-keeper? 
Inhk.    I  am,  if  it  please  your  worship. 
Ulrich.  Fetch  me  quick 

Some  wine. 
Innk.  Yes,  Sir.     [Exit.] 

Jos.     [Risen  from  his  seat  to  obtain  a  better  view  of  Ulrich,  and 
stealthily  walking  around  him  while  he  stands  lost  in  thought.] 

By  God,  may  I  be  hanged 
If  'tis  not  he! 

[Draws  nearer  to  Ulrich,  and  then  steps  back  a  few  feet.] 
There  is  no  doubt;  'tis  he! 
What  favorable  accident! — To  let 
The  chance  slip  by,  Jos  Fritz,  were  stupid — aye. 
Decidedly  more  stupid  than  befits 
You! — How  this  meeting  ripens  suddenly 
To  fullest  bloom  the  misty  thoughts,  the  plans 
I  vaguely  formulated,  and  the  hopes 
I  nursed  in  silence!  Come!     If  one  there  be 


130  FRANZ  VON  ZICKINGEN. 

"Who  could  on  him  prevail,  *tis  he — and  he 

The  one  who  also  has  the  toill.    If  e'er 

The  time  was  fit,  'tis  now!    Hew!    Up,  and  at  itti 
[Approaches  Ulrich  determinately.'] 
Vlrich.     [To  himself.'] 

The  first  night  back  again  on  German  soil! — 

I  may  of  service  be  to  them,  and  may, 

Though  meager,  tidings  gather  from  them  here. 

[Looks  up  and  sees  Jos  Fritz,  who,  quite  near,  is  intently 
gassing  at  him;  seizes  the  handle  of  his  sword.'] 

What  do  you  want  ?  Back,  if  you  please ! 
Jo8.  Sir  knight. 

You  do  not  recognize  me?    Speak,  I  pray! 
Ulrich.    As  little  as,  I  hope,  you  do  myself. 
Jos.    How  now,  Sir  knight!     I  should  not  know  you,  SirT 

Not  know  the  flower  of  your  rank!     The  best 

Man  in  all  Germany!     But  no;  I  will 

Not  flatter  you.     There's  one  who  lives,  and  who 

Your  peer  is;  and  that  one  is  also  your 

Best  friend.    With  pride,  and  not  with  envy,  is, 

[Draunng  still  closer,  and  in  a  voice  low  enough  not  to  he 
heard  hy  the  peasants.] 

Frwnciscus^  praise  fulfilled  by  Ulrich  von  Eutten. 
Ulrich.     [Steps  hack  amazed.] 

And  who  are  you? 
Jos.  Oh!     I  forgot  you  do 

Not  see  me  now  in  all  the  splendor  of 

My  beauty.    Excuse  me.     Soon  I'll  be  myself. 

[Removes  "beard  and  plaster,  which  he  throws  upon  the  table 
of  the  peasants.] 

So,  now,  perhaps,  your  memory  will  serve 

You  better. 
Ulrich.  What!  Is't  you,  Jos  Fritz? 

Jos.  The  same! 

Ulrich.     [Looking  round.] 

Then  keep  an  eye  upon  the  tip-staves  of 

The  law.  Not  yet  have  they  forgot  your  work 

At  Lehen,  nor  much  less  at  Untergrunenbach. 
Jos.    Pshaw!     Times  have  changed.     Perhaps  the  time  is  nigh 

When  Jos  Fritz  needs  the  tip-staves  fear  no  more. 
Ulrich.    At  any  rate,  a  better  meeting  I 

Could  not  have  prearranged.    You  are,  Jos  Fritz, 


J'RANZ  VON  ZICKINGEN.  Wl 

iTie  trumpet  of  the  realm,  a  veritable 

Guild-master  of  fresh  news.     Whatever,  and 

Wherever,  ever  happed,  oft  e'en  before 

It  happed— you  knew't.     My  soul's  impatience 

You  now  can  calm  with  tidings  of  Franciscus. 
Jos,    Indeed,  none  could  report  m6re  fully,  Sir. 

I  just  have  come  from  that  vicinity. 

But  whence  come  you  that  naught  about  your  friend 

You  know? 
Ulrich.  I  straight  from  Zurich  come. 

Jos,  Then  truth 

Did  Rumor  spread,  reporting  thither  you 

Had  gone  for  help  from  the  confederates 

For  Franz?    Did  you  succeed? 
Ulrich.  I  would,  had  not 

Ulrich  of  Wurtenberg — who  an  exile  lives 

In  Zurich,  and,  though  banished,  still  a  curse 

Is  on  the  German  people — burning  still 

With  hatred  'gainst  Franciscus  and  myself — 

Succeeded,  through  his  followers  and  strong 

Connections  that  he  there  enjoys,  to  thwart 

Me  in  securing  from  the  Swiss  the  aid 

They  pledged  their  word  to  give  us. 
Jos,  Better  so! 

Ulrich,    What?    Better  so,  say  you? 
Jos.  Excuse  me.  Sir. 

My  tongue  tripped.    All  the  worse,  I  meant  to  say. 
Ulrich.    When  I  perceived  that  vain  were  my  endeavors, 

I  quitted  Zurich  to  return  to  Franz, 

And  to  him  lead  my  yearning  steps. — But,  now. 

Instead  of  yourself  speaking,  me  you  make 

To  speak.     Inform  me  how  stand  things  with  Franz? 
Jos,    Another  thing;  how  late  have  you  from  him 

Had  news? 
Ulrich.  The  last  reliable  tidings  that 

We  had  was  that  the  palsgrave's  lands  he  raided, 

And  took  by  storm  the  strong  place  of  Vorberg. 

Since  then,  no  further  message  have  we  had. 
Jos.    Yes,  that  was  in  the  winter.    But  since  then 

The  tables  turned.     Before  he  knew,  and  long 

Before  his  army  had  assembled,  all 

The  three  confederated  Princes  drew 


132  FRANZ  VON  ZICKINGElSf. 

'Gainst  Landstuhl,  his  own  burg,  in  joint  array* 

Vlrich.     [Nervously.'] 

And  was  he  inside?    Could  he  not  retreat 
To  Ebernburg? 

Jos.  He  could!  But  did  not  do't. 

I  think  he  now  regrets  that  he  did  not. 
At  first  he  held  out  well;  he  drove  them  back. 
And  captured  Henry  of  Elz,  together  with 
His  whole  brigade  of  mounted  men.    He  then 
A  jeering  trumpeter  sent  out  to  them: 
New  cannons  had  they,  he  new  walls;  he  now 
Was  curious  to  hear  how  that  would  sound 
Together. — Counting  upon  help  and  prompt 
Relief  from  his  allies — 

Ulrich.     [With  increasing  impatience,] 

And  what  did  theyT 
The  knights,  the  federation  of  Landau? 

Jos.    But  ever  larger  forces  trooped  into 

The  Princes'  camp.    They  locked  him  in,  and  met 
His  wishes.    His  best  batt'ries  soon  they  shot 
To  pieces — 

Ulrich.     [Beyond  control.'] 

But  his  friends,  his  allies,  where 
Were  they? 

Jos.  Oh,  Sir!  With  them  it  all  has  changed. 

The  larger  number  now  are  circumspect 
And  doubtful;  others  not  quite  ready  with 
Their  armaments.    The  worst  of  all  is  that 
The  trouble  came  too  quick.     Franz  is  not  yet 
Supposed  to  be  at  such  a  frightful  pass. 
The  Furstenbergs — 

Ulrich.  How?    Also  they  have  left 

Franciscus  in  the  lurch? 

Jos.  No.  Listen,  Sir! 

Two  messengers  he  sent  to  them  his  stress 
Announcing,  urging  haste  upon  them. 
From  them  he  surely  help  had  got.     But  both 
Were  caught — I  happened  then  in  camp  to  be. 
When  in  the  second  one  was  brought. — Sir,  ne'er 
Have  I  such  frantic  joy  beheld!    By  Franz 
Himself  confirmed,  the  letter  said  that  he 
Was  lost,  if  quick,  with  th'  others  named  therein, 


FRANZ  VON  ZICKINGEN.  133 

They  did  not  come  to  his  relief. 
Ulrich.  Franz  lost! 

May  sooner  heaven's  vault  upon  us  crash! 

[To  the  inn-keeper. 1 
Bring  out  my  horse.     The  errand  I  myself 
Will  ride,  and  in  their  burgs  'the  sleepers  wake ! 
From  burg  to  burg  a  dreadful  cry  I'll  fling: — 
Franciscus  is  in  danger!  Out — 
Jos,  Sir,  control 

Yourself !    You  could  not  travel  far.    You  know — 
The  ban  is  over  you!    Besides,  your  help 
Would  come  too  late.    E'en  when  I  left,  it  stood 
So  bad — Franz  himself  wrote  it — Landstuhl  could 
Not  hold  out  two  weeks  longer.     No,  Sir!    You 
Are  now  too  late.    The  burg  is  lost. 
Ulrich.  A  curse 

Upon  your  head,  that  you  of  him  and  lost 
Can  prate  in  one  breath!     Lost  the  burg,  and  Franz 
Within?  ! — If  so,  I  shall  go  down  with  him. 
My  horse! — [Rushes  to  the  door.'\ 
Jos.     [Rushing  after  /itm.] 

But  listen,  Sir! 
[Holds  and  leads  him  hack  hy  the  arm.'] 

Though  he  is  lost. 
There  still  is  help!    Take  hold — and  with  one  blow. 
Is  ev'ry  thing  from  bottom  up  again 
Changed  for  the  better. 
Ulrich.     [Dazed.]  Help,  you  say?    Did  I 

Correctly  understand  you?    Help? 
Jos.  Now,  Sir; 

Please  listefln,  and  attentively. 

[Takes  Ulrich  hy  the  arm,  and  speaking  to  him   in   a   low 
voice  leads  him  to  the  rear;  at  Jos  Fritz's  first  whisp- 
ered words  Ulrich  shows  signs  of  deep  interest.] 
2nd  P.  What  can 

Jos   Fritz  so  much  to  say  have  to  the  knight  ? 
1st  P.    It  seems  important.    Watch  how  urgently 
He  talks  into  his  ear.    And  the  knight. 
Just  look,  can  hardly  hold  himself.    Jos  throws 
Him  into  quite  a  splutter. 
Srd  P.  Be  it  what 

It  may  be,  he  will  bring  him  over  to  his  side. 


134  FRANZ  VON  ZICKINGEN. 

Not  in  the  council  of  the  Emperor, 

Is  there  a  finer  head  than  this  Jos  Fritz. 
1st  P,    Aye,  that  is  so.  Jos  knows  how.    And  'tis  one 

To  him,  a  peasant  or  a  knight.     Where'er 

His  hook  he  hitches,  quick  he  bites  him  fast. 

And  leads  you  at  will,  as  th'  angle  does  the  fish 

That  has  bitten  in  the  bait. 

[Jos  Fritz  and  Ulrich  walk  hack  to  the  front,  speaking  in  a 
low  voice,  hut  violently  gesticulating,^ 
Ulrich.    Is  it  no  trick  my  ears  to  mislead? 

Most  eighty  thousand?    Said  you  that? 
Jos.  At  least 

That  many,  that  would  forthwith  rise. — I  am 

No  learned  scribe.    I  could  not  neatly  count 

Them  down  with  ink  and  paper.    But  this  much 

I  tell  you,  and  my  head  upon  it,  Sir: — 

As,  when  the  powder  lights,  nothing  remains 

Behind  within  the  hollow  of  the  cannon. 

But,  rather,  driven  by  the  powder's  vim. 

The  complete  load  like  hail  does  outward  fly. 

So  all  the  districts  that  I  named  are  on 

The  watch,  impatiently  await  the  signal; — 

In  Allgau,  Kraigau,  Wasgau — all  the  districts 

That  I  before  have  named,  together  with 

Their  teeming  populations.    Empty  hollows. 

That's  what  the  villages  become;  the  land 

Is  all  alive,  and  like  a  wave  it  rolls. 

What  is  not  quite  a  child,  or  has  not  quite 

Returned  to  childhood,  grabs  the  halberd,  and 

With  cheers  joins  the  march.    And  as  before,  J 

When  nations  went  in  mass  migrating,  each  J 

One  pushing  on  the  one  ahead,  so  now. 

One  district  th'  other  pushes,  drags  it  'long 

Unto  the  great  Crusade,  our  people  to 

Emancipate. 
Ulrich.  And  what  conditions? 

Jos.  One 

Alone;  the  one  I  told  you  of.    He  shall 

Be  sworn  our  leader — he  shall  swear 

The  articles,  the  twelve,  which,  like  unto 

Jehovah  in  the  fire-column,  shall 

A  blazing  manifesto  march  before 


FRANZ   VON   ZICKINGEN.  135 

Us  all!     His  standing,  following  and  his 

Unrivalled  military  genius  will 

Our  power  multiply.     With  such  a  head 

The  issue  of  the  game  is  certain  to  us. 

No  better  hour  could  we  hope  to  see! 

Your  Ziska  tell,  will  he  consent,  his  aye 

A  fiery  signal  from  the  mountains  will 

Descend  unto  the  valleys,  light  the  sky 

Of  Germany,  and  burn  our  common  foe 

To  ashes. 
Ulrich,    [Solemnly.l 

In  80  far  as  one  man  may 

Speak  for  another,  with  my  hand  I'll  now 

That  aye  pledge  from  the  bottom  of  the  breast 

Of  Franz.— 

[Oives  Jos  Fritz  his  hand  which  is  warmly  grasped,"] 
But  how  to  penetrate  to  him? 
Jos,    Leave  that  to  me.     I'll  gain  you  admission  to 

The  burg  in  a  disguise.     Shall  thither  lead 

You,  I  myself,  and  at  its  foot  await 

The  answer  you  may  bring. 
Ulrich.  Let  us  start 

Upon  the  spot! 
Jos.  This  very  night! 

Ulrich,  No,  now! 

Who  can  command  the  hour — who,  but  its 

Own  master  may  dispose  of  it  at  will? 
Jos.    Well,  as  you  will! — 
[To  the  peasants.^ 

My  friends,  I  hence  must  on  the  spot  start  with 

This  knight.    The  hour  of  consultation  is 

By  the  approaching  act  devoured.    Great  things 

Are  on  the  stocks.     Success's  sun  hangs  o'er 

Our  plan.    Farewell!     You'll  soon  hear  more.     But  three 

Of  you  shall  for  a  distance  keep  me  company. 

I've  many  messages  to  expedite. 
Several  Peasants.     We're  ready.     Those  of  us  that  you  appoint 

Will  follow  on  your  steps.    Good  luck,  Jos  Fritz! 
Others.    Good  luck! 

[Exit  Jos  Fritz  am,d  Ulrich,  followed  hy  aW.] 

Scene  V. — The  previously  described  chamber  in  the  hurg  of  Land- 
stuhL     Fbanz  entering  from  a  side-room. 


136  FRANZ   VON   ZICKINGEN. 

Franz.     [Lost  in  meditation.'] 

Not  yet  returned!     Why  lingers  he?    Like 
Lead  the  heavy  minutes'  paces  drag  along! — 
It  is  three  hours  since  he  left;  to  me 
Each  one  is  lengthened  to  eternity. 
And  each  an  endless  train  leads  in  its  wake 
Of  hopes  and  fears,  to  me  bewild'ring  maze. 

lApproaches  a  window  in  the  tower,  and  stretches  out  his 
arm.] 
You  yonder  lie,  my  country,  sunny  and  green; 
The  land  of  my  affection  and  my  efforts! 
My  spirit  through  this  window's  iron  bar 
Floats  down  to  you  upon  my  vision's  rays. 
He's  right!     These  walls  do  not  protection  give, 
They  part  me  from  the  Nation!     Yonder  does 
She  wait,  oppressed  by  heavy  chains;  she  waits 
In  patience  that  her  saviour  may  arrive. 
Like  arms  the  hills  their  lengths  extend  to  me; 
They  beck  to  me,  and  draw  me  to  their  heart! 
I  come — my  hand  to  it — I  will,  I  vnll 
Come  out  to  you!     No  power  shall  prevent  me! 

Scene  VI. — Balthasae  enters  with  downcast  looks;  Feanz. 

Franz.     {^Stepping  impatiently  towards  him.] 

At  last  you  come! — but,  friend,  I  plainly  read 

The  answer  in  your  face. 
Balth.  It  is  in  vain! 

Their  boiling  hate  has  leaped  all  dam,  and  bluff 

They  spurn  the  semblance  e'en  of  moderation! 

Their  hatred  makes  them  blind,  it  at  the  same 

Time  gives  them  sight,  and  wisdom's  place  assumes. 

'Tis  you  they  want — and  only  you — they're  deaf 

To  aught  that  has  not  Franz  for  name. 
Franz.  And  what 

About  the  palsgrave? 
Balth.  He?    The  worst  of  all 

The  three!  His  conscience  goads  him  into  rage. 

I  plainly  saw't.     In  short,  they  have  but  one 

Word,  this:  your  unconditional  surrender. 

They  swore  no  other  pact  to  make. 
Franz.  I  shall 

Surrender? — And  yet  you  offered  them 


MANZ  VON  ZICKINGEN.  137 

The  Ebernburg  and  other  forts? 
Balth.  No,  Sir! 

My  old  eyes  bor&d  through  their  corselets  thick 

Into  their  hearts,  still  harder  than  their  corselets. 

It  was  in  vain — and,  hence,  I  nothing  said. 
Franz.    I  thank  you,  my  old  friend!     Thus  honor's  saved! 

An  unconditional  surrender?    Do 

Their  Arrogancies  think  I've  shrunk  so  far? 

The  fools!  Still  free  does  this  arm  feel  itself. 
Balth.    But  listen,  Sir!     In  coming  back  from  thence, 

I  learned  the  reason  of  their  arrogance. 

Blindfolded  was  I  led,  but  when  I  reached 

The  bound'ry  of  the  camp,  and  they  removed 

My  band,  I  turned  my  head  to  gaze 

Upon  the  field.     I  then  saw,  near  a  hedge. 

One  of  the  masons,  who  engaged  had  been 

In  this  burg's  fortifying.    Quick  he  ducked 

His  head,  but  I  did  hail  him — trembling  he 

Arose,  and  in  the  pallor  of  his  face 

Lay  the  confession  of  his  Judas  act! 

Hence  comes  the  spirit  that  each  ball  does  lead; 

The  secrets  knowing  of  the  burg,  drives  them 

Destructive  to  its  weakest  spots!     When  that 

I  saw  my  head  I  dropped.    Is  this  the  case. 

How  long  can  we  hold  out? 

[Steps  towards  Franz,  and  takes  his  hand  mth  a  painful 
expression.'] 

Whichever  way 

My  eyes  in  scrutiny  I  turn,  escape, 

Sir,  can  I  nowhere  see — no — nowhere  now! 
Franz.    Oh,  treason!    That  the  Princes'  weapon  is? 

And  thereon  their  Princes'  pride  is  built! 

Drop  not  your  eyes;  look  up,  oh,  Balthasar! 

A  man's  full  force  is  in  extreme  emergencies 

Deployed,  and  paling  fall  away  the  fears 

That,  earth-born,  drag  him  down  to  earth. 

Up  from  the  shipwreck  of  his  shattered  planSy 

Up  from  the  ruins  of  his  cunning,  leaps 

His  spirit  in  its  native  greatness.    To 

The  immensity  of  his  own  strength  of  will. 

That  latent  lies  in  him,  he,  waxing,  turns; 

With  closed  eyes  inhales  new  strength ;  draws  in 


138  FRANZ  VON  ZICKINGEN. 

New  action  from  his  own  resources;  and 

The  total  of  his  life  upon  one  card 

He  stakes.     Unburdened  thus,  he  leaps  to  deeds^ 

That,  lightning-like,  in  but  a  single  instant 

The  face  of  the  inevitable  change. 

You  said  by  dint  of  cleverness  I  failed; 

Well,  then,  the  deed,  the  bold  one,  shall  redeem  me! 
Balth.     What  is.  Sir,  now  your  plan? 
Franz.  The  morning  sun 

Success  announces  smiling  to  my  heart, 

And  resolution's  fire  courses  through 

My  frame.     I  come,  my  country — 
Balth.     [Anxiously.]  Speak!    What  do 

You  contemplate? 

[Martial  music  is  heard  at  a  distance;  hoth  stop  to  listen.] 
Franz.  Hear  you?  They  approach!     Themselves 

They  give  the  signal  unto  me,  and  join 

In  music  with  the  feeling  that  within 

My  breast  is  beating  time. — 
An  Armor-hearer.     [Rushing  in.]     Sir  knight.  Oh  arm 

Yourself!  Along  the  whole  line  draws  the  foe. 

They  are  about  the  burg  to  take  by  storm. 
Franz.    Thou  iron!     God  of  man!     Thou  magic  wand, 

That  turneth  to  reality  his  wishes! 

Thou  last  resource,  that  in  despair's  night 

Doest  glisten  on  his  eye,  his  freedom's  highest 

Pledge!     Now  unto  thy  hand  to  I  consign 

My  fate.     A  hostile  army's  long  array 

Its  coils  winds  yonder  round  about  me,  and 

Still  closer  does  reproach's  coil  constrict 

My  breast.     The  double  knot  you  are  to  cut; 

One  of  the  two  you'll  cut  assuredly! 

Scene  VII. — The  knight  of  Rudesheim  armed  cap-a-pie  and  with 
sword  drawn,  followed  by  several  armor-bearers  and  soldiers. 
Close  after  him  Marie,  toho  anxiously  questions  Balthasar 
and  the  armor-bearers. 

Rud.     [Enters  precipitately.] 

Have  you  been  told?    The  en'my  means  to  storm 
The  burg.    The  ladder-carriers  are  approaching. 

Franz.     [To  his  armor-bearer.] 
Bring  me  my  helmet! 


FRANZ  VON  ZICKINGEN.  U0 

Marie,  Father,  I  pray,  do 

Not  this  time  rush  into  the  thickest  of 

The  fray. 
Franz.  Keep  still,  my  child! 

[To  Rudesheim.]  From  which  side  are 

They  approaching? 
Rud,  The  attack  the  main  gate  threats. 

And  on  the  east  strong  observation  squads 

Are  posted. 
Franz.     [Has  in  the  meantime  donned  his  helmet.l 
Good!   (Let  William  of  Waldeck 

Lead  the  defence. — You,  Rudesheim,  with 

One  half  of  the  garrison,  the  moment  that 

They  hand  to  hand  have  come,  a  sally  make 

From  the  small  gate,  and  take  th'  assailants  in 

The  rear. — My  horse  and  thirty  trusty  men 

Keep  at  the  garden-gate  for  me.     When  with 

Your  sally  you  have  drawn  upon  yourself 

The  bulk  of  th*  en'my's  forces  and  his  eye, 

I  forth  will  rush — escape! 
Marie     [Screaming.^  Oh,  father!    Father! 

Franz.     I  may,  perhaps,  the  near  woods  gain  without 

Encount'ring  opposition.     Do  I  so. 

You'll  hear  from  me.    Whatever  bars  my  way 

Must  be  broke  through.    For  death  must  ev'ry  man 

Be  ready  who  accomp'nies  me.     Now,  Rudesheim, 

My  word  I  keep. — /  loill  go  out! 
Rud.  Your  plan 

Be  blessed!  You  out,  and  I  upon  the  foe! 

My  men,  now  follow  me! 

[Rushes  off  with  all  the  soldiers  and  armor-bearers,  but  ttoo 
who  remain  with  Franz.l 
Marie.    [Falling  on  her  father's  neck.'] 

Oh,  father,  I 

Conjure  you!  Pray  venture  not  without! 

So  few  men — God — anxiety  my  blood 

Does  freeze!     Regard  my  sad  presentiments! 

It  will  not  turn  out  well — 
Franz.    [Kindly.]  Be  still,  Marie. 

Balth.    No,  hold  him  back!     I  also  feel  assailed 

With  ill  forebodings.     Yet— he'd  better  go! 

Should  it  succeed — Oh,  Germany,  this  day 


140  FRANZ  VON  ZICKINGEN. 

A  lustrous  one  would  be! 

[The  martial  music  draws  nearer.'] 
Marie.    [Clinging  more  and  more  passionately  to  Frane*s  neck,  while 
he  seeks  to  disengage  himself.] 

I  shall  not  let 
You  go!     Oh,  father,  I  beseech  you! 
Franz.    [Forcing  himself  from  Marie*s  arms.] 
My  child,  be  still!     Me  calls  the  fatherland. 
And  feverish  my  heart-beats  answer,  Aye. 
Your  fate  to  kindly  Powers  I  confide; 
They  summon  me  who  vengeance  wreck  on  Wrong. 
I  come,  my  country!     Hansom  now  my  flesh 
Of  earthly  fault,  vainglorious  feebleness! 
If  I  the  wall  drew  'tween  yourself  and  me, 
*Tis  now  for  me  to  dare  to  break  it  through! 

[Exit  precipitately  with  drawn  stoord,  followed  hy  the  ttoo 
armor-hearers;  Marie  falls  to  the  floor.] 

Scene  VIII. — Balthasab;  Martk. 

Balth.    [Rushing  to  the  aid  of  ifarte.] 

For  heaven's  sake,  young  lady!     Oh,  collect 

Yourself.    The  courage  that  you  ever  showed. 

Preserve  it  now. 
Marie,     [Slowly  rising.] 

Oh,  Balthasar!    Ne'er  yet 

Was  I  a  prey  to  such  anxiety! 

[Takes  a  step  forward  ivith  clasped  hands,  distracted,1 

How  if  I  now  have  for  the  last  time  seen 

My  father! 
Balth.  No,  young  lady;  no.    You'll  see 

Your  father  surely  again.     Allow  not  that 

Such  phantoms  should  preoccupy  your  mind. 
Marie.    Oft  has  my  father  gone  to  battle,  yet 

Ne'er  was  my  heart  so  full  of  sad  forbodings. 

One  blow  decides  the  fate  of  both. 
Balth.  Of  both? 

Whom  else  mean  you? 
Marie.     [Starting  up  and  looking  around.] 

Could  I  but  outside  fly 

And  hover  over  him;  could  but  my  eye 

Lead  him;  my  cry  would  give  him  warning. 
Balth.  Oh! 


FRANZ   VON   ZICKINGEN.  Ul 

Young  lady,  do  you  rave  ?    Collect  yourself, 

I  pray  you!     Come — and  take  this  seat. 

[Leads  her  to  a  settee.l  Myself 

Shall  climb  to  that  entablature.     The  field 

Is  swept  from  th'  upper  windows.    All  I  see 

I'll  let  you  know.    My  faithful  eyes  shall  serve 

You  for  a  field-glass. 

[Climhs  up  to  a  higher  toindow.} 

Ha!  Already  does 

Our  Rudesheim  spread  death  in  th'  enemy's  rear. 

Ha!  How  he  with  his  grim  men  hammers  them 

In  bloody  rout!     He  drives  them  to  the  wall! 

There  Waldeck  mows  them  down  in  rows  with  his 

Stone  slingers.     Frightful  does  the  battle  rage! 
Marie.    And  of  my  father,  see  you  aught  ? 
Balth.  Not  yet. 

The  en'my's  reinforced. 
[/»  great  excitement.'] 

And  Rudesheim 

Divides  his  forces.    With  one  half  he  drives 

Them  to  the  ditch.    Oh!  Woe!     No  longer  do 

I  see  him.    All  are  thrown  together.    At 

The  main  gate  thickest  is  the  knot  of  men. 

The  ladders  are  by  Waldeck  beaten  down. 

Ha!    There's  Rudesheim!  His  sword  a  wide 

Swath  cuts.     Oh!  Bravo,  sturdy  fellow!    Bravo! 

That  was  a  blow!     He  drops. 
Marie.  Who  drops? 

Balth.  The  knight 

William  von  Zabern.    Ah!  the  en'my's  ranks 

Are  wav'ring. Lo!  lo!     Yonder  with  his  men 

Your  father  turns  the  corner!    Victory! 

A  hundred  paces  more,  and  safe  the  wood 

They  reach!     The  road  is  clear! 
Marie.     [Leaping  up."]  Oh,  God  I 

Balth.     [In  consternation.']  Woe!     Woe! 

What  do  I  see!    From  out  the  woods  a  troop 

Of  riders  forward  rush!     They've  noticed  him. 

Upon  him  straight  they  ride. 
Marie.  Oh,  God  in  heaven! 

Balth.    They're  seventy  or  eighty!     Swords  are  crossed. 

Your  father  runs  their  leader  through. 


142  FRANZ   VON  ZICKINGEN. 

[Stamping  with  his  footJ]  Flee,  Franzl 

Oh,  drop  your  magnanimity!     'Tis  now 
Too  late.    The  ranks  are  at  close  quarters  drawn. 
Like  lions  do  our  men  defend  themselves. 
Despite  the  en'my's  greater  numbers. 
Marie,  Do 

You  see  him  still? 
Balth.  Ha!  Rudesheim  has  seen 

His  plight.    At  full  tilt  does  he  hasten  with 
A  goodly  squad  to  aid  him.    Could  he  fly! 
*The  distance  still  is  long!    Woe!     Franz's  plumage 
I  see  no  more. 

[Marie  utters  a  cry  of  anguish.'\ 

Yes!    Yes!    There!    There  he  is, 
I  think.    The  wall's  edge  intercepts  my  view. 
I'll  to  the  roof  where  with  one  look  the  field 
Of  battle  can  be  taken  in. 
[Descends  rapidly.'] 
Marie.    Wringing  her  hands.    No !     No ! ! 

No,  Balthasar! 
Balth.     I  must  unto  the  roof — my  whole  existence  is 

Compressed  within  my  eyes.     Young  lady — pray!     [Exit.'\ 
Marie.     [Calling  after  him."] 

Stay,  Balthasar!     Oh,  Balthasar! — ^He's  gone! 

Alone  he  leaves  me  in  this  agony 

Of  death!     My  limbs  are  trembling.    Vainly  I  seek 

My  feet  to  raise.     I'm  paralysed.    A  load 

Of  hundred  weights  my  body  presses  down. 

Aye,  pray!    I'll  pray!     [Falls  on  her  knees.'] 

If  yonder  'hind  the  clouds 
A  Father  thrones  who  feelingly  looks  dovm 
Upon  our  woes;  who  pity  takes  upon 
Our  human  sorrows — ^He  will  now  reveal 
Himself  to  me.    Oh!    If  a  kindly  Providence 

Our  fates  leads  lovingly How  did  he  say? 

The  individual  stands  on  chance's  powder  magazine; 
Exploding — Woe,  if  now  that  powder  magazine 
Beneath  my  father  should  explode! 

[Her  head  drops  on  her  breast,  ami  she  covers  it  with  her 
hands;  deep  silence;  presently,  triumphal  music  re- 
sounds behind  the  scene;  Marie  raises  her  head.] 

Hark!    Hark!! 


FRANZ  VON  ZICKINGEN.  143 

What  was  that  signal?    Victory  comes  from 

The  trumpets  of  our  side.    Could  it  be  possible? 
[Rises  quickly  and  looks  behind.^ 
Balth.     [Entering.] 

Yoimg  lady,  heaven's  heart  is  obdurate. 
Marie.    What  say  you?   Why  like  lead  your  face  sinks  down 

Upon  your  breast?    Our  men  have  signaled  victory! 
Balth.     Aye,  victory!     The  attack  has  been  repulsed; 

And  bleeding  is  the  en'my  driven  back 

To  camp.    But  ten  times  sweeter  were  defeat 

Than  victory  so  dearly  paid  for — 

They  deadly  wounded  carry  back  your  father. 

Scene  IX. — Funeral  march  "behind  the  scene.  While  Balthasab 
haptens  to  the  aid  of  Mabie,  who  at  his  last  icords  is  about  to 
fall  to  the  floor,  and  holds  her  up,  the  door  opetis  and  vyrapt  in 
a  cloak  the  body  of  the  deadly  wounded  Sickingen  is  carried 
in  upon  a  cot.  Rudesheim,  Waldeck,  the  Physician,  knights, 
armor-bearers  and  soldiers  follow.  The  cot  is  placed  to  the  right 
of  the  scene. 

Franz,    Marie  I 

Marie,  My  father! 

[She  flies  with  outstretched  arms  to  him,  kneels  down  6e- 
side  the  cot  and  throws  her  arms  around  his  necfc.J 
Fram.  Dear,  sweetest  child! 

Forgive,  if  for  one  moment  more  I  keep 

Myself  from  you.    I  soon  will  yours  be. 

Is  Rudesheim — 
Rud.  Franz! 

Franz.  ^  Do  you  think  the  foe 

Knows  how  it  stands  with  met 
Rud.  They  could  not  that; 

Not  even  if  the  knights  had  recognized 

You.    When  we  extricated  you,  you  still 

Sat  fighting  on  your  horse,  and  not  until 

They  fled,  did  you  of  loss  of  blood  drop  from 

Your  horse.     We  carried  you  in  our  midst 

While  the  en'my  was  sounding  the  retreat. 

They  hardly  could  so  soon  have  learned  it. 
Franz.  Good! 

And  where  is  the  physician? 
Phys,     [Stepping  forward.]  Here  I  am! 


144  FRANZ   VON  ZICKINGEN. 

Franz.    I  saw  thee  tremble  when  thou  bandageth 

My  wounds.     Now  freely  speak: — can  I  be  saved? 

And  how  much  longer  can  1  live? 
Phi/8.     [Hesitating.']  Sir — I — 

Franz.    I  want  the  truth.    Upon  thy  conscience  now 

I  lay  it.    Many  nobles'  freedom  hangs 

Upon  thy  word. 
Phys.     [With  an  effort.]     You  can — 
Franz.  I  order  thee 

To  speak! 
Phys.  You  can  not  e'en  this  night  survive. 

[J.  thrill  of  dismay  runs  through  the  ranks  of  those  present 
Marie  smothers  her  sohs  in  the  cushion  of  the  cct.} 
Franz.    Well,  then — 

Once  more,  and  for  a  last  time,  now  I  shall 

Outwit  them.     Rudesheim,  the  herald  send 

To  the  enemy:    I  will  the  burg  surrender. 

Myself  a  prisoner  will  yield,  upon 

Condition  they  allow  all  those  within. 

Myself  excepted,  to  withdraw.     But  forthwith 

A  decision  they  must  give.     Time  to  think 

I  shall  refuse.     If  they  accept,  the  gates 

Throw  open.     Long  I  do  not  wish  to  be 

Their  prisoner.     [Exit  Rudesheim.] 
Marie,  I  now  belong 

To  you,  my  child!     Oh,  weep  not!     Grieve  not  o'ep 

My  fate.     We  owe  to  life  the  purposes 

To  which  the  race  is  consecrated  as 

Mere  artisans  their  task  to  fill.    I've  done 

All  that  I  could,  and  feel  at  ease  and  free. 

As  one  who  faithfully  a  great  debt  paid. 

My  mind  falls  back  up©n  my  life's  career. 

And  speaks  me  clean  of  selfish  sentiment. 

My  name  will  live  in  memory,  and  bards 

Will  some  day  join  me  to  the  hosts  of  those 

Who  battled  for  the  noblest  aims  of  man — 

And  thus  I  gladly  die — and  therefore — do  not    grieve. 
Marie.     [Embracing  him  deliriously.] 

Oh,  father,  no!     You  shall  not  go!  I  can 

The  thought  not  bear  of  leaving  you! 
Franz.  My  child! 

My  outward  fortune — that  I  leave  in  ruins. 


MAN^  von  ZICKINGEi^.  U5 

But  never  on  external  things  your  mind 

Was  set.    As  heritance  my  name  remains 

To  you.     I  bid  you  carry't  worthily, 

As,  well  I  know,  you  will.    Alone  one  thought 

Oppresses  me,  and  makes  it  hard  to  die — 

Oh,  could  I  see  him  once  again,  and  peace 

Draw  from  my  Ulrich's  noble  face! 

[Marie  sohs  violently.}  On  it 

Whatever  noble  deed  I  contemplated 

In  brilliant  incarnation  met  my  eyes, 

And  as  the  mirror  of  my  soul  he  stood 

Before  me!     Much  I  fear — a  heavy  blow 

Will  this  news  be  to  him.    Console  him,  child! 

Tell  him  with  blessings,  with  rich  blessings,  have 

I  in  this  life's  last  moments  thought  of  him. 

Tell  him  that  no  reproach  must  he  on  my 

Account  make  to  himself.    I  thank  him  for 

This  death,  the  handsome  closing  of  my  life; 

I  thank  him  for  the  better  part  of  my 

Existence. 
Herald.     [Enters.}     Sir!     The  en'my  have  accepted 

The  offer  that  you  made.     The  burg,  that  still 

This  day  shall  be  your  own,  to-morrow  they 

Will  occupy.     But  close  upon  my  steps 

The  Princes  follow.    They're  approaching. 
[Trumpets  sound.} 
Frwnz.  Rise, 

Marie !     Your  tears  dry.     The  .  en'my  may 

Not  see  Franciscus'  daughter  weep.    Be  brave, 

My  child! 

• 

Scene  X. — Second  hlare  of  trumpets.  Enter  the  three  Princes — the 
Palsgrave  Ludwig,  Philip  of  Hesse  and  the  Abchbishop  of 
Treves — preceded  "by  the  Palsgrave. 

Zu4.     [Precipitately.} 

Is  Franz  himself  here? 
Balth.     [Stepping  briskly  towards  him.} 

Sir,  respect  before 
The  dying! 
Ziud,  Dying ! 

[His  eyes  fall  upon  Franz,  and  he  staggers  hack;  commotion 
among  the  Princes.'] 


U«  FRANZ  VON  ZICKINGEN. 

Never  have  I  thought, 
Franciscus,  that  my  eyes  would  thus  behold 
You! 

Franz.  Not  "So  more  did  I!     And  would  you  now 

Swear  off,  now  that  'tis  done,  the  consequence 
Of  your  own  acts?    Repudiate  the  fruit 
Of  grasping  treason?     Go!     I  loathe  your  sight. 
Upon  the  altars  of  your  envious  pride. 
That  swells  your  breast,  you've  immolated  all 
The  duties  gratitude  commands,  betrayed 
Your  house's  most  devoted  friend.    And  thus 
May  on  your  house  my  fate  eventually 
Avenged  be.    Before  a  hundred  years 
Have  passed  away,  may  in  the  strife,  that  I 
A  frightful  heritage  behind  me  leave. 
Tour  scion,  wretched  and  pursued  by  foes 
Forsaken,  like  myself,  from  all  his  friends, 
Flee  through  the  land  a  beggar,  fitly  thus 
Your  house's  real  splendor  seal,    liegone! 
— ^A  Nemesis  holds  sway  on  earth;  upon 
Your  heads,  ye  Princes,  I  conjure    her  wrath. 

Phil.    Your  scores  with  Ludwig  do  not  me  concern; 
I  ever  was  your    foe;  you  ever  mine. 

Franz.    You  can  the  voice  of  conscience  not  deceive, 
Nor  yet  can  you  deceive  th'  avenging  goddess. 
Are  you  not  Hesse's  Philip,  Luther's  friend? 
And  yet  yon  Romanist  you  shield,  and  helped 
To  run  me  down,  who  Luther's  strongest  prop 
Defiantly  stood  up?    Unbridled,  a 
Corroding  selfishness  transported  you; 
Your  own  advantage  weighed  far  more  than  did 
With  you  the  common  weal.    Hence  may  yourself 
The  penalty  yet  pay  for  your  misdeed, 
In  deepest  mis'ry  mourn  that  him  you  felled, 
Whom  to  replace  you'll  never  have  the  strength. 

Arch.    Perhaps,  also  for  me  you  have  reserved 
Some  little  text? 

Franz.    Archbishop! — Not  with  you  my  quarrel  is. 
Not  words  between  us  can  decide.    Besides, 
With  long  and  rapid  strides — I  feel  it  at 
My  heavy  breathing — death  is  drawing  nigh* 
Yet  triumph  not. — Not  vnth  you  victory 


FRANZ  VON  ZICKINGEN.  147 

Remains.    The  seed  in  blood  sprouts  up — awaked 

Among  the  masses  is  the  cry  of  conscience. 

Or  soon  or  late — ^your  dirge  song  it  will  be. 

[^During  the  last  lines  Rudesfieim  enters  and  speaks  privitteljf 
and  pressingly  to  Balthazar  and  Marie,^ 
Marie     [Animatedly  stepping  forward.^ 

Ye  Princes!     Almost  providential  does 

It  seem  that  at  this  time  a  pious  monk 

Has  come  into  the  burg.     The  favor  grant 

That  we  my  father  leave  with  him;  he  mighty 

Perhaps,  my  father  to  confession  move. 
Franz.     {With  weaker  voiceJ] 

Confess — I  will  not — have  myself — 

[Balthazar  makes  covert  signs  to  him,"] 
Marie.  Princes  I 

He  may  yet  to  his  daughter's  wishes  yield. 

If  of  your  presence  he's  relieved. 
Franz.  I  will — 

Not — do  you  hear — 
Lud.  The  maiden's  prayer's  reasonable.     Far 

From  us  the  purpose  be  to  stand  between 

Himself  and  God.    Ye  Princes,  let's  withdraw. 

Let  all  with  us  retire  who  are  not 

Of  Franz's  household. 

[Exeunt  Princes  and  suites^  simultaneously  and  by  another 
door  Balthasar.^ 

Scene  XI. — The  former;  soon  after  Balthasar  imth  Ulbich  von 
HUTTEN.  Ulrich  is  dressed  as  in  the  third  scene,  hut  now  with 
a  monk's  cloak  over  him,  which  on  entering  he  throws  hack 
upon  his  shoulders.^ 

XJVrich.     [Behind  the  scenes.^ 

Wounded  did  you  say?    [Enters,^ 

His  iron  sinews  mock  at  wounds;  and  this 

Is  not  the  time  for  wounds. 
Franz,     [Has  half  risen  at  the  first  sov/nd  of  JJlrich's  voice,  and 

quickly  calls  to  him.^ 

Oh,  Ulrich,  you! 
Ulrich.     I've  come,  Franz;  and  I  bring  a  mass  of  news 

Most  favorable!    Notified  by  messengers. 

That  I  sent  out,  of  your  distress,  our  friends 

Are  arming  to  assist  you  powerfully. 


148  FRANZ  VON  ZICKINGEN. 

Fra/rus.     ISinking  hack  upon  his  cot,'] 

Too— late! 
Ulrich     [Stops  hevnldered.]     Too  late? 

[Looks  inquiringly  around  at  the  circle  surrounding  Franz.l 
The  burg  has  been  surrendered? 

A  murmur  told  me  so,  as  I  in  haste 

Came  up  the  stairs. — But  even  so!    What  care 

We  for  the  place !    But  you,  have  you  yourself 

A  prisoner  surrendered? 

[Gazes  toildly  at   the  surrounding  group,  who   drop   their 
heads.]  So  it  is! 

I  read  the  confirmation  in  their  looks. 

Well,  then!    Still  better  tidings  do  I  bring. 

Make  ready,  Franz,  to  learn  from  me  great  things. 

The  time  ha^  come.     The  peasant  draws  the  sword ! 

He  wants  you  for  his  leader,  Franz !     By  him 

Commissioned,  stand  I  now  before  you.     Say 

The  word — an  army,  hundred  thousand  strong, 

He'll  place  at  your  command.    The  land  will  rise! 

They  will  not  long  hold  you  a  prisoner. 

Allow  that  from  this  tower's  height  a  sign 

I  give,  and  long  before  they  to  their  burgs 

Have  taken  you — before  their  camp  they  break. 

The  flood  will  swallow  them;  'twill  close  o'er  them, — 

Their  squadrons,  both  of  horse  and  foot — as  does 

The  raging  sea  close  over  drowning  men! 

[Intently  looking  upon  Franz,  Ulrich  pauses  for  an  answer.'] 
Franz.    Too  late — ^you  speak.  Oh  Ulrich,  to  the — dead! 
Ulrich,     [Staggers  hack;  looks  around  as  if  searching  for  confirma- 
tion; all  drop  their  heads  in  utter  dejectment;  Ulrich  staggers 

a  few  steps  toward  Franz,  hut  hefore  reaching  him  drops  down 

vnth  a  piercing  cry.] 

Dead! 
Franz,     [Painfully  and  in  a  hroken  voice.] 

Ulrich — thanks — that  once  again  I  see 

You — now  my  wish  has  been — fulfilled — but  now — 

No  longer  tarry — quit  the  burg — they  might 

Return — the  Princes — go — ^they'd  capture  you — 

Do  not  my  death  make  hard — the  effort  lent 

It  wings — but  few  more  minutes  shall  I  live — 

Go!     Ulrich!    Go! — inflict  not  on  my  mind. 

My  breaking  eyes,  the  pain  a  prisoner 


FHANZ  VON  ZICKINGEN.  149 

To  see  you — save  yourself — for  better  days — 

For  our  cause — I  beg  you — ^go — my  voice — 

I  can — no  more — tell  him,  Marie — ^move  him— 
Marie.     [Approaching  Ulrich.^ 

Ulrich !    From  you  I  comfort  thought  to  draw ; 

And  I  must  strength  and  comfort  give  to  you? 
Ulrich.     [Rises  slowly  o/nd  speaks  solemnly.'] 

Be  still,  Marie! — and  do  not  desecrate 

With  petty  comfort  such  a  pond'rous  pain. 

You  lose  a  father — I  the  soul's  companion. 

Wen  so  there  might  be  comfort — were  naught  else  concerned! 

With  this  man  our  fatherland  breaks  down. 

In  death's  throes  lie  the  hopes  that  we  lived  for. 

— With  his  death,  impotent  the  nobles  will 

Draw  back  afraid,  and  bend  before  the  Princes, 

Who  masterful  the  realm  in  pieces  tear; — 

To  Princes  flunkeys  they  will  soon  descend! 

— ^Deprived  of  his  support,  himself  mistrusting, 

The  townsman  will  be  absorbed  within  the  web 

Of  his  peculiar  interests,  and  lost 

Is  he  to  our  Nation's  broader  sense. — 

— ^Alone  the  peasant  true  remains  to  our 

Great  Cause;  he  takes  up  arms — but  on  his  own 

Resources  thrown,  he  to  the  slaughter-house. 

The  bloody,  only  drags  his  body;  and 

His  quartered  limbs  the  broad  face  of  our  land. 

With  horror  struck,  from  end  to  end  will  cover! 

On  his  own  property  the  Right  of  Conquest 

High  carnival  will  lead,  will  strip  from  him 

The  last  shreds  that  of  freedom  still  he  enjoys.-^ 

A  long  night  falls  upon  our  heads,  the  sad 

Fate  of  this  country  in  its  sable  veil 

Concealing. — 

[Turning  to  Fra/nz.] 

Thou  diest,  and  thou  earnest  to  thy  ^rave 

Whatever  worthy  of  living  this  life  made. 

Me  now,  my  errant  feet  to  exile  take; 

But  not  for  long;  a  few  weeks  more,  and  then— 

My  ashes  joined  will  be  unto  your  dust. 

To  future  days  I  our  revenge  bequeathe. 

[Staggers  towards  the  door;  the  curtain  closes."] 

THE  END. 


J 


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